


October 7k Drabble Celebration

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 7k follower celebration, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Halloween Drabbles, Samhain, Smut, drabble requests, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-12-17 17:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: A series of drabbles and one-shot requests in celebration of 7k followers on Tumblr, written for Halloween, most have some theme to them. Characters range through the MCU, some relate to current works or past works.





	1. A Fae-ted Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> littlebittcrazy said: Drabble idea- I'm terrible at coming up with fic ideas, but since it's Halloween-ish I have to say I love the mythical creatures. So maybe Steve is in Ireland for some reason and meets a witch, like charmed-original/practical magic type, and she's nice but clearly hiding something. Turns out her sister is a werewolf (like, the protect the village type, not evil) and she doesn't want anyone to find out so she uses her magic to protect/hide the sister...?
> 
> Warnings: Canon-typical violence, language, smexy

* * *

Steve hit the ground hard and rolled down an embankment, tumbling head over feet only to impact a rock before landing in something wet. He stayed still, his body aching, pain screaming from broken ribs and other bones he couldn't yet name. But every breath was a chore, so he knew those were busted. 

Consciousness came in and out, awareness dim and fading, but he could hear it above him, looking for him, tearing through the brush, so he stayed still and waited. Or perhaps he lost consciousness, and by the time he regained it, it had moved on.

Whoever had told him to discover his roots and take a vacation to go backpacking in Ireland was a chump. Instead of enjoying the rolling hills, sheep-dotted fields, and stone fences, he was running for his life - again. 

The tiny village where he'd rented a cottage was awash with rumours he'd picked up thanks to super soldier hearing and a well-grown beard. No one knew him as anything more than Steven Grant, dropping his last name for privacy's sake while he remained anonymous to travel and relax. 

But the rumours couldn't be ignored. Missing children really couldn't be ignored, and when the town came together to do a sweep to see if the boys that had gone missing a day ago could be found lost in the woods, he'd been there, ready to volunteer. 

A woman had instantly caught his attention, not for her shock of raven's wing hair and starling lavender eyes, but the dog walking at her side would cause anyone to look. Could he even classify it as a dog when it was the size of a small pony with teeth as long as his pinky?

Either way, Steve learned her name was Branna, and the dog/wolf was Seath. 

The rest of the town appeared comfortable with them both, so Steve paid it little mind. He'd taken his map, flashlight, and orders and headed into the woods to search for the children. 

He could hear the calls of the other searchers echo through the foggy and wet foliage but ignored it, looking instead for any sign two small children had crossed his path. He'd listened and occasionally asked a question, wondering at the rumours of something dark and sinister kidnapping children. 

He should have paid closer attention. 

The children he found at the edge of a clearing deep in the woods as night was falling, dirty, cold, and scraped, and rescued them with little fuss. The thing that came out of a cave across the clearing that chased them through his back trail was a hell of a lot harder. Missing his shield, Steve fought it off long enough for the kids to escape, running back toward town and the people calling for them while he'd kicked whatever the heck he was fighting through a tree, then led it deeper into the forest away from the rescuers. 

He had cuts and bruises by the time his energy was flagging and knew he was in trouble. Falling down the embankment wasn't part of the plan, but he’d missed the edge due to the brush he burst through and tumbled ass over feet. Accident or not, it appeared to work as nothing came after him.

Again he drifted, growing colder the longer he stayed soaking in the creek but moving hurt too much. Another five minutes and he'd get up, find his way back to town, and clean up.

A twig cracked. 

His adrenaline surged. 

Leaves rustled. 

Steve held his breath. 

A long furry snouted appeared from the brush, followed by a shaggy head. The wolf/dog regarded him for a long moment before giving a soft _ woof_.

"A little help would be nice," Steve mumbled, recognizing the dog from the search and rescue meeting.

More brush rustled, and this time the woman stepped through the trees. "Well, I’m after finding you. That was a brave thing you did, taking on a bugbear. Or feckin' stupid.”

“Bugbear?” Steve asked, barely able to make his voice work. 

“Mm,” she hummed and crouched down. “You almost had it too. Strange.” She ran her fingers through his hair, then began to trail her hands down his body. 

“Ribs,” he murmured. “Ankle. Shoulder.” He’d already assessed the worst damage.

“Got it all figured, do you now?” she laughed softly. “Shall we see?” She had a lyrical voice, deep and moody, but full of amusement. 

Steve felt his eyelids flutter, beginning to lose consciousness. “Gonna pass…” he tried to warn her, but he was drowning in a black tunnel. The last thing he saw was her head whip up, then a ball of light appear over him held in her hand. 

But that couldn’t be right.

***

Steve woke all at once, as was his way, but he didn’t move. No longer in the creek, he was without clothes, the wool of a blanket soft against his skin. Bandages wrapped his arms, ankle, and shoulder. One bound his head. A light flickered behind his eyelids. He could smell wood smoke and something savoury and fragrant. 

Carefully, he cracked his lids to take in his surroundings and opened them all the way when Branna came into view. She was bent over the table, long hair swinging as she ground mortar against pestle. Her eyes flicked up and over as if she knew she was being watched.

“Awake?”

He nodded slowly and made to sit up, clutching the blanket to him, realizing he was on an incredibly comfortable couch. “Where are we?”

“Mine home.” She poured the powered from the pestle into a copper bowl and added water from the steaming kettle. 

“Yours?” He still felt a little foggy on the details. “How did we get here?” She nodded toward the dog whose tail thumped against the floor before the fire though it didn’t lift its head. “And why am I naked?”

She snorted. “Naked, says he. After I’ve been about fixing him up after he almost made a bags o’ it.” She rolled her eyes at the dog.

Wolf. Steve still couldn’t figure out which. “I’m grateful for the help, really,” he said when she shot him a sarcastic glare. “I’m just foggy on the… details.”

She stirred whatever was in the bowl a few times before coming toward him. She sat on the sofa at his hip when he made to swing his legs down. “Stay. It caught you good in those ribs. You brang a mighty fight with you. We were about to step in when you kicked it through the trees. You’d best be telling me how you did that, Mr. Grant.” Lavender eyes lifted and held with his as she sat there unmoving. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the fire, her proximity, or his strong realization that there was nothing between him and her - an incredibly beautiful, oddly ethereal woman - but a blanket and boxers that set the heat in his cheeks. “Steven Grant isn’t my name,” he murmured. “I mean, it is, but that’s not all of it. I’m Steven Grant Rogers. My friends call me Steve. Or… Cap.” 

She blinked once, her lack of understanding clear. It was the wolf that scrambled excitedly to its feet and pranced over to dance on tiptoes beside them that finally broke the spell. Branna frowned at the enormous, shaggy creature. “Slowly, love. I can barely understand you,” she murmured.

Steve arched a brow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Not, you,” she huffed and took the wolf by the muzzle, her eyes locked with golden ones. Then hers widened in disbelief. “Oh. Oh! Well, aren’t I thick in the head?”

The wolf continued to dance on all four feet. 

“Don’t get all delira and excira, Seath.”

“Who are you talking to?” Steve asked. Surely it couldn’t be the dog/wolf. Dolf? Wog? What was he supposed to call the thing? 

“Seath. My sister.” She patted the wolf’s head. “She’s a fan, whereas I am not. Shall we crack on?”

Steve looked from her to the wolf and back. “You sure _ you _ didn’t hit your head?”

Seath barked what could have been a laugh and ran her nose along his arm until her muzzle - and all those teeth - rested on his shoulder. Then a pink, very wet tongue swept over his face. “Ugh… thanks?” 

Adoring golden eyes stared at him. Her tail wagged. Finally, he patted her head. The wolf shivered all over, licked him again, and trotted back to the fire where she fell with a thump onto the rug. 

“It’s not funny, you wee scruff,” Branna huffed and yanked the blanket from Steve’s slack fingers.

“Whoa, dollface! We don’t know each other that well and-”

She shot him a look with those pale purple eyes that silenced him faster than a glance from Fury. “You’ve a claw swipe from a bugbear in yer ribs. Stop yer bellyachin’ and let me tend to ya, you daft fool!”

She ripped the bandage off his ribs and made him hiss when the warm air in the room hit it. Steve looked down, forgetting for the moment the way her accent thickened and made his head swim. Ugly strips of flesh hung between even uglier claw marks. “Well… shit.”

Branna chuckled. “To put it lightly.”

“A bear did that?” That hadn’t looked like any ordinary bear.

“A bugbear. They’re a type of hobgoblin. Parents tell children stories of them to scare them into behaving. If only they knew the truth.” She dipped her fingers into the bowl of orange goo and spread it over his wound.

He hissed again at the initial contact, then sighed when everything went cold and numb. “That’s the good stuff.”

Branna chuckled again. 

“What’s a hobgoblin?”

She didn’t look up. “An ugly little fairy you want nothing to do with.”

“Fairy?” What the hell had he stumbled into?

This time she did look up, and when she smiled, it showed off a pair of very sharp teeth. “Welcome to Ireland, Captain, where the fairy tales are more real and more terrifying than you’d guess.”

The numbness was pleasant, but he could feel himself sliding again, his vision narrowing into the tunnel. “What… are you?”

She finished the last gash, placed the bowl on the floor and bent over him. Her breath washed his lips, their noses brushed, and Steve felt an ache fill him that had nothing to do with his injuries. 

“You’ll have to ask again when next you wake,” she whispered as darkness took him.

***

The next time he woke, there were eyes on him. He opened his and got a shock when he came face to face with a child of roughly fifteen. 

“Hello,” he said cautiously. 

“Branna!” she shrieked. “He wakes!”

Steve flinched at the volume as Branna came in from another room. “Seath, stop gawking at the man and crack on with that breakfast.” 

The child also named Seath, pouted but flounced off into the other room. 

Branna came to his side and sat at his hip. “You got a bad dose of it, didn’t you? Been out three days.”

“Three days!” Steve gasped, struggling to sit up. Every limb felt weak and heavy, and he fell with a thud back to the couch. “I haven’t felt this bad since the forties.”

“It was a fine thing you did, going after them kids, but next time, leave the supernatural to those who know what they're about.” She peeled back the bandage on his side and hummed at the wounds. 

Steve looked down, and what once was a nasty bout of infection was down to three healing slices. “I need to make a call.”

“Your phone rang two days ago. I answered. There was a rather britchy woman on the other end. She sounded a right puss, so I hung up on her.”

“Oh, God.” Branna was a dead woman. Nat would kill her for that.

“She called back. You better put him on the phone, she says. He’s shattered after a nice bit of Craic, and a night full of fuckin', I says. Maybe he’ll call you tomorrow, or maybe I’ll fuck him sodding blind, and you can have him back when I’m through." She poked gently at his ribs. "I hope she wasn’t your girlfriend, but I disliked how rude she was.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open, he inhaled hard and burst out laughing only to grab for his ribs. “Oh, shit! Haha, ow, man. Ow! Oh, what I’d give to see Nat’s face!”

She giggled and pushed against his shoulders to settle him back on the sofa. “Guess she was on a tear after for I had a lovely visit with Thor.”

“Thor was here?” He could only imagine what the Asgardian had to say. 

“He was. Meet him at the door in my nighty. Let him peek through to see you passed out on the sofa and sent him on his merry way.” She smirked so slowly; it was like watching her face in slow motion. “He told me to tell you; you’re a lucky bastard.”

“He’s the one who saw you in your nighty,” Steve grumbled without thought and made her laugh. 

“After the jacks, you can flirt with me.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re too manky to get any now.”

He knew from earlier in his trip ‘jacks’ meant toilet and ‘manky’ was not a good thing, but he wasn’t sure he could get off the couch, let alone shower on his own. As if reading his mind, she stood and walked into the kitchen area where Seath was seated at the table, eating something that suddenly smelled delicious. Then Branna was back with a steaming cup of liquid. 

“Drink. It will return the strength to your limbs.”

Steve scrunched his nose. “Smells.”

“Things good for you often smell bad and taste worse. Now, hold your nose and down your gullet.”

“Hold my nose?” He shifted enough to be sitting, wincing only a little, the pain much better. 

“This shites brutal. You don’t want to smell _ and _ taste it.”

It did smell terrible, but she appeared to know more than he did in this case and took the cup. He took a deep breath, held his nose, and chugged the hot liquid. It tasted worse than it smelled, and he burnt his tongue.

“Bloody eejit! Why didn’t you blow on it first?” She snatched the cup back while he sat waving at his tongue, eyes tearing up. “Here.” 

She grabbed him by the chin, shocking him into pulling his tongue back, then her mouth was on his, tongue gliding between his teeth, bringing soothing relief. When she pulled back, his hand snapped out, strength returned and buried it in her hair. 

“What the hell are you?” Steve asked, rising to his feet, holding her gently but firmly. The blanket fell to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers.

She smiled and there, again, he found those extra sharp teeth. Not quite fangs, they were set back in her mouth but gave her a wicked appeal. “Once I was human. Now…” She shrugged. “I’m something else.”

His hand tightened in her hair. “What?”

A deep growl ripped from the kitchen table where the girl, Seath, was crouched on the surface. 

“Seath, everything is fine.”

She growled again, and suddenly, mist and something more swirled together in her place, loud cracking manifested in the fog, and cleared to reveal the giant wolf from a few nights ago. 

“Seath!” Branna snapped. “Down!”

The wolf’s ears plastered to her head, but she whined and got meekly off the table.

“She has a grand grá for all things Avenger and would be sad if she had to sink her teeth in you.”

“I have no intention of hurting you or… her.” He nodded to the - he couldn’t believe he was going to think the word - werewolf. “But I need to know what is going on here.”

Branna held up her hands, then pointed down the hall. “Third door on the left. Clean up, shower. I’ll have clean clothes for you. McCraig was kind enough to bring your things when I said you’d be staying with me a bit.”

That made him feel marginally better. People knew he was here, including his own people, even if they were under the misconception he was here for wholly sinful purposes. He looked between the wolf glaring at him and the woman waiting patiently and sighed. “Fine.”

Steve stalked down the hall in his underwear, aware of the eyes on him.

When he made it, he didn’t slam the door, even though he wanted to.

***

Barely minutes later, he was scrubbed, dressed, and back sitting on the sofa, now clear of his confinement. A plate of eggs, sausage, and potatoes sat waiting for him, and while he was wary of what she would say, he couldn’t deny how hungry he was and dug in when she nodded toward it. 

Seath was still in wolf form, her head in Branna’s lap, eyes narrowed, clearly not happy with him. 

Branna stroked her ears and began to speak without any prompting from him. “We were human once. Then a fae witch came and began lurin’ off our children. Our mam had the sight and could see what she was, but the rest of the village though the witch was just an old woman down on her luck, needing a hand at things. They’d send their kids to help her with her garden or her groceries, and she’d be all sweet as jam, but that night, another child would vanish from their beds. 

"Our mam, she knew the old ways of salt and iron and all the things to keep us safe, but our da hated it. You’re foolish, he says to her one night. She’s just a harmless old woman, and takes the salt from the window and iron from under our beds. Now I’m twenty, too old for her tastes, but Seath is only eight, ripe for the picking, and doesn’t she come that night to steal my sister. 

"I woke in time to see her grab Seath and screamed for our mam to help, brang up the iron from where I’d secreted it back under my bed and hit her with it, driving her out the window, but she didn’t let go of Seath. 

"Our ma did all she could, ran outside with prayer and salt and iron, even our da fought her off, but both were no match for a fae witch. She killed them in front of us, slaughtered them like lambs. She thought she won and turned to take Seath, but missed me, still alive, coming up behind her with the iron fire rod. By then the whole village was awakened by the noise and witness to her crimes, so when I plunged the metal through her back, none cast blame on me. But I missed her heart, only nicked it, and as she died, she cast a curse on Seath to evermore be of beast and man, destined to live by the waxing and waning of the moon.” She ran her hand over the girl’s head.

“That doesn’t explain you,” Steve said softly, aware of the pain buried beneath the words and the sad, half-closed eyes of Seath.

She smiled, pointed eye teeth back on display. “No one knew killin' a fae witch meant becoming a fae witch. Without Seath, it would have driven me mad all that power, but with her, I could fight past the madness to focus on fixing what Grimolea wrought. The power wanted to be used, so I used it. Taking the curse back after was impossible, so I changed it. Seath does hold to the moon in some ways. On a full moon, she’s beholden to the change, but the rest of the month, she wears fur or skin as she pleases. Where once she would have been a bloodthirsty monster, now she protects the village. And when, as it often happens, a new fae decides our village looks ripe, I _ dissuade _ them from staying as I was attempting to do last eve when you’re hero complex got in my way.”

Steve set his empty plate on the coffee table. “Wow.”

Branna chuckled. “So it is.” 

“So when I thought I imagined a ball of light in the forest?”

She rolled her hand over and let one float above her fingers. “Easy.”

“And getting me back here?”

Seath grumbled a funny sound and sneezed. 

“You were murder for her to carry. Ridiculously heavy.”

Steve shook his head, wondering how he’d found his way into this fairy tale. “So, the fae are real?”

“They are, and far deadlier than the tales tell.”

Seath rose and wandered to the door where she whined to be let out, and Branna waved a hand. The door opened and shut with the wolf’s exit. 

“Is she… okay out there?” Steve asked.

“She’s been checking around the village for fae since she was eight. She’s fine. The wolf is coming into its prime though Seath is still a teen. She's strong, and will call if she needs me. Are you alright?” She tilted her head, hair cascading like a silk sheet over her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly. “Surprisingly.” Then he snickered. “I came to Ireland to discover my roots. Guess I’m discovering a little more than expected.”

Branna laughed and rose to walk toward him before sinking boldly into his lap. “That kiss was… mmm. You up to discover something else of your roots?”

He took her by the hips and pulled her closer. “Well, I wouldn’t want to make you a liar.”

“Liar?” she frowned. 

“You told Nat I was "shattered" after a night of fun and fucking,” he smirked. 

“Ah,” she grinned. “Definitely not a liar. But are you sure you can keep up with this fae, Captain?”

“How long is Seath going to be gone?”

“As I asked her to take an extra-long time. At least a few hours. If she gets bored, she’ll head to a friend’s gaff. We’ve time,” she murmured, her fingers dipping into the collar of his shirt. “And if you’re lucky, I may just show you my nighty.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “What’s that saying? I’ll give it a lash?”

Branna threw her head back and laughed. “You’re cute when you try!”

“You’ll have to teach me some real Irish,” he said, rising to his feet with her in his arms. “And all about the fae. I want to help. I’m sure the others would too.”

She nipped her teeth into his lip. “Give you an excuse to visit.”

“Do I need an excuse?” he asked, striding through her bedroom door and kicking it shut

Branna smiled and shook her head. “Never.” 

Steve was already planning his return trip to Ireland.

-_The End-_


	2. Strange Happenings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandomsstolemylife00 said:  
Dr. Strange using his portals to help make Halloween scarier.
> 
> Warnings: None

* * *

“This feels like a waste of my talents,” Stephen muttered. 

“Just wait,” you whispered, watching the infrared cameras of the first group of people through the haunted house. 

“You know they can’t hear you. Why are you whispering?” 

“Because once you open a portal, they will be able to hear us.” You pointed at the screen. “Open one here, just behind her head. I’m going to reach in and grab her shoulder, then pull back. Don’t cut off my arm.”

He rolled his eyes. “Best be quick.” He circled his hand, and the portal opened. 

You reached through, grabbed the girl’s shoulder and yanked your hand back. The portal snapped closed on her shriek of terror. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

Stephen’s attention was glued to the screen, a smirk twitching his lips before he snickered. “Alright. I see the potential. Let’s begin.”

Over the next few hours, the two of you terrorized the people in the haunted house with hands that came from nowhere, touches that disappeared without a trace, and laughter that came from beyond the grave. By the time the Avenger’s run haunted house closed for the night, raking in an exceptional amount of money for charity, you and Strange were bent over your knees, gasping for air. 

Then the door burst inward. “Who the fuck grabbed me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat,” you smiled, all innocence. “We’ve just been monitoring the halls like we were assigned tonight.”

“I know one of you shits did something.” She shook her finger at you, her zombie makeup less terrifying than the Widow herself. “I’ll get you both eventually. See if I won’t.”

She slammed the door, and you smirked at Strange. “Can I move into the Sanctuary?”

“I think you’d better,” he snickered. “I told you not to.”

“Too good to pass up.” It was rare you could pull one over on Natasha but so worth it. “She might be over it by Christmas.”

Strange chuckled, but opened a portal back to the Sanctuary rather than take his chances walking out the door. 

-_The End-_


	3. The God's Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: @huskiesfan-olicity-wintershock said:Possible Halloween prompt (saw it on someone else’s dash and may have shouted “omg that’s it!”): that one fantasy about her being a virgin sacrifice left on the altar of a horny god.” this could involve a literal god (i.e. Loki or Thor), or a “fantasy god” (i.e. Steve or Bucky) - i leave that all up to you! 😉 
> 
> Warnings: the full smut

* * *

He watched from the shadows as she was chained to the altar and left behind with nothing but a sheer white shift to cover her nakedness. Around her, large urns of wine and mead, and baskets of succulent cuts of meat and the best of the harvest sat waiting, but he ignored those, intent instead on the virginal sacrifice left behind. 

She was beautiful, as they always were, but this one showed no excitement and no fear. She was blank as if what had befallen her meant nothing. He took in her expressionless face, and dark eyes, the silk of her ebony hair brushed until it gleamed in the firelight. It lay around her like a shadow as she stared unseeing up at the stars. 

His eyes drifted down her lush body. Full breasts and wide hips, soft belly gently rounded, and long, strong legs. She worked, this one. She was no pampered Jarl’s daughter.

When Thor was certain all were gone, he slipped from the shadows to walk across the field, traverse between the torches, and climb the stairs beside her. She didn’t even look at him. 

“Are you an unwilling sacrifice?” he asked. If she were here because she’d been forced, he would take it out on her village. “I will not look kindly on you if you lie,” he murmured when she made to speak. 

“Are you Loki that you can discern my words for truth?” she asked in a low, throaty voice. 

It caressed him like velvet and thickened his cock. “I am his brother. I know when I am being deceived. So speak truth, girl.”

“I am willing.” But her eyes returned to the stars. 

She didn’t seem it. Mjolnir was in his hand and breaking through her chains before she could gasp for breath. Thor returned the hammer to his belt and sat beside her, gathering the woman to his arms. She shivered, the Winternights air cold, and he dragged his cape free to wrap around her. 

“You are willing, but not wanting. Why are you the one on my altar?”

She lifted her chin, dark eyes flashing. “No man will have me.”

“Why?” She was beautiful. Strong. What could possibly keep the men away?

“My husbands have a habit of dying.”

Thor arched a brow. “You are not a virgin?” He didn’t care either way, but tradition was tradition.

“I am.” 

He shook his head in confusion. “Explain yourself.”

“My father is- was a wicked man. He marries me to men of wealth, then murders them at the wedding feast so I would inherit their holdings, and he could take over their lands. He succeeded twice, but my father’s machinations did not deceive the Jarl here. They killed him for his crimes and gave me a choice. The God’s Sacrifice or death.”

“He blamed you for your father’s evil?” 

“As I was complacent, I was as responsible.”

Thor snorted. He knew well that men could and had forced women to their will because they were physically weaker. A daughter was at the mercy of her father until her marriage, then at that of her husband. 

He need only look at her, her beaten, resigned demeanour and sad eyes to know she’d lived a hellish life until now. But her spirit shone in her eyes; her voice rang with honesty. She was a woman worthy of worship and love and a man to care for her. 

“Do you know what the God’s Sacrifice truly is?” Thor asked, drawing her up on her knees beside him.

“A way to guarantee the harvest lasts through the winter and spring will be kind.”

“Yes, but it guarantees more than the fertility of a village. It has long been my way of seeking a wife.”

“Wife?” she breathed, the blankness sliding into shock. 

Thor brushed his cloak from her body and slipped the shear shift from her shoulders. “A worthy wife to give me sons. Strong men of honour like their mother.” He surrounded her firm breast with his hand and blew over the swiftly hardening nipple. 

“I’m… I’m not worthy,” she whimpered, fluttering hands delving into his hair.

“But you are, woman. I am a God. I know what I know.” He took her into his mouth and lavished her nipple with attention. She gasped and cried out, her body arching into his until Thor pulled away with a pop. “Give me your name.”

“Sif. I am called Sif,” she gasped. 

“Sif. My queen. My love. My wife. The new Goddess of the Harvest. You will give me many sons.”

He rolled her down on the altar and stripped off his armour before climbing over her. Her eyes were as dark as the night around them, but her cheeks held the flush of desire.

"I… I am not this lucky," she whispered, reaching hesitantly to touch him.

"Fortune favours the brave, my love," he whispered, his lips on hers and hair falling like a curtain around them.

She whimpered and squirmed beneath him, unused to his weight. "I have never felt such heat before. I feel as if flames fill my body."

Thor chuckled and kissed his way down her throat. "You feel the potency of my power. I am well pleased with my sacrifice."

Her skin was golden in the light of flickering torches, soft, velvety, smooth as silk. Or so he thought until the brush of his hands on her bare arms found a few knicks and scars. "What's this? Is my lovely also a Valkyrie in disguise? Do you wield a sword, Shieldmaiden?"

"When I was young, my mother taught me. When she died, Father… became intolerable. He refused to allow me to fight as my worth was in what lay between my legs, not the steel I could wield at the end of my arm, but I never forgot and practiced in secret when he was busy elsewhere."

Thor sat back on his knees and really looked at her, causing a flush to crawl up her body. There was a wealth of strength beneath all that softness he could not wait to discover. "My warrior maiden. Never again shall you suffer a slight. Never again will anyone deny you the right to a sword. You will stand at my side in battle whenever you wish, though I may beg you to reconsider when our child grows here."

He laid his hand on her abdomen, her shift long gone, and allowed his power to pulse through her.

Sif gasped and arched and moaned, her hand flying to his wrist. "Thor!"

"Yes, speak my name. Scream it to the Norns. Tonight, I collect my wife." She was exquisite in her rapture, experiencing pleasure for the first time. 

He smoothed his hands over her, cupped and massaged full breasts and plucked lightly at her hard peaks. Quiet moans of enjoyment spurred him onward. 

Thor held out his hand and Mjolnir jumped to it. He captured Sif's hands and looped them through the hammer's strap before dragging her hands up to shackle her to the altar once again. 

"My God Thor. Please. I would touch you," she begged.

"Soon, beloved, but first, you must taste pleasure. The pleasure only I can give." He pressed her knees apart and shifted forward, holding her open when shyness would close her legs against him. Then he reached for the tie of his breeks and parted his pants, sending his erection springing forth. Her gasp made him laugh and thunder roll in the distance.

He took himself in hand and nestled the length along her slick lips, rubbing on her hard jewel. Her eyes fluttered shut and lips parted on a sinfully sweet moan. "Look at me, Sif." Her lashes parted, eyes intense. "I want to watch you come apart for me. You will know such pleasure. Pleasure only I will give. That will belong only to you, wife."

She whimpered when his hands skimmed up her body to surround her breasts and gasped when he began to slide his length - thick and hard - over her hard bud.

Red suffused her cheeks as he thrust, his thumbs circling her nipples before lightly flicking over them. The heat and wet was Valhalla. He wasn't even inside her yet, but he was already soaring on waves of bliss. She cried out when he rolled her hard flesh between his fingers and thumbs. "That's it, beloved. Give me your pleasure. Let your voice carry."

She tugged at her bonds, but Mjolnir remained immobile. "Thor!"

"Yes!" He increased his pace and bent to lavish her perfect breasts with attention. 

Her voice broke into breathy gasps and low keening, her pelvis grinding up as she found her pleasure. Then her legs clamped around his hips, and she screamed, arching blindly into his body as Thor drew on her firm bud.

He rocked slowly, keeping her pleasure going. Even his thighs were damp with her release, and he looked forward to tasting her in the future for right now, she smelled delicious. 

Thor kissed a path up her torso and ducked his head to suck a slow mark in her neck. "Are you with me, wife?"

Her lashes fluttered against cheeks run red. Her breasts heaved with each breath. She was lovely in her ecstasy. "I am with you… husband," she whispered, peering at him from behind her lashes. 

His entire being lit up with that one simple word. "Mine. My wife." He released her hands from Mjolnir and pulled her up into his lap, trapping his cock between them and pressing her breasts to his chest. "Feel my heart pound for you, beloved. It beats now and only to the song of Sif."

"And mine for you," she whispered, her shyness so lovely compared to the boldness of all the others. 

It was a privilege being chosen the God's Sacrifice. Most came to him willingly, happily, and wantonly, but not her. His sweet Sif with her shy, fluttering hands and soft blush, who's hesitant touch stoked flames beneath his skin. 

Her legs bound his waist, but her hands had only begun to roam, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, skimming the softness of his braids, following the cords in his neck, and tracing the muscles in his back. 

"You're so perfect," she whispered.

He laughed, but it was joyous. "I am a God, love."

"I am so plain compared to you."

He held her tighter, his fingers finding their way up her spine to grip the base of her skull. "Never say that. You are mine. The God's wife is as beautiful as the dawn, as fearsome as a storm. You are more exquisite than the stars, Sif."

"Thor." She melted against him, her body soft and welcoming. 

He lifted her bottom and found her opening. "Soon, I will take you to Asgard where we will feast in your honour, then I will have you for days in my bed where the furs are soft and warm, and the silks will kiss your skin. But now I must finish the Harvest Blessing."

She nodded, eyes full of desire. "Take me, my God. I'm yours."

He rumbled a sound, not unlike distant thunder and let her body sink over him. Gazes locked, he felt and saw the moment when her barrier broke. She flinched but gave no cry, her tight body giving slowly to the passage of his. 

He would plow her fallow field and seed it this night so his son would grow in fertile soil. She would be the Goddess of the Harvest, her body a blessing on all the lands.

Never before had blood and seed marked the stone altar, but tonight he would grant that gift, bless these lands, and take his due. The sacrifice was a grand one. The last one. No woman would again feel his lust but the one panting against his shoulder.

When, finally, he seated himself at the mouth of her womb, Thor groaned. "Valhalla. You are Valhalla, Sif." Her nails flexed on his back, little pinpricks of pain that heightened his pleasure. 

"Thor," she sighed against his ear before her lips found his throat and bit down tenderly. 

"Little minx," he chuckled, sliding her slowly up his cock. 

"Ooh," sighed from her. "That's nice."

He laughed and brought her back with a snap that threw her head back. "It is more than nice, my lovely."

She nodded, her glassy eyes all the praise he needed. 

The pace he set was a slow build, one that saw her rising to crest and hanging there, letting her pleasure build. Her slick walls flexed and pulled at him. Her hard nipples rubbed his chest. Sweat mixed and dripped from their bodies. 

Her hands scrambled for purchase, digging and clawing, marking him with her passion. Then, her lips skimmed his cheek, her hands clamped in his hair, and a searing kiss settled on his lips. They battled, tongues twining, each seeking the upper hand until, finally, she wrenched her head back and screamed, "Thor, I beg you! You will drive me mad!"

He flattened his hand on her lower back and let his lightning flow in a gentle current straight to her womb. The shock saw her eyes widening. The whited out with the pulse of his power, he drove his hips up, and she convulsed, her climax the most powerful, most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 

She gasped air, shuddered, her abdomen clenching in pulse after pulse of blind pleasure he could feel transmitted to him by the tight flexing of her walls around him. 

Thor groaned and pumped his seed into her, granting her the gift none before her had ever received. He was helpless to deny her. Unable to hold back when she was who he'd searched the nine realms to find. 

He waited until the throbbing ended before sliding his still hard cock from her body. Blood and seed fell to the stone between his knees and set the altar glowing a soft white.

Thor stepped from it, set Sif on her feet and turned her around. "Look. Look, beloved and see what you've done." He held her up when her legs wobbled.

"I? I did that?"

"The perfect sacrifice," he purred in her ear. "My blessing will last one hundred years." He bent her over until her hands gripped the stone, ran his fingers up and down her slick entrance and watched her shudder. 

"Again."

So soft he barely heard her, Thor grinned as he slipped his fingers inside her begging walls. "What, wife?"

She turned her head, and blazing eyes made his breath catch. "Again, husband," she growled. "I would have you again. Assure me our son grows."

Thor's mind went white, feral, animalistic. When his senses returned, Sif was face down over the altar, screaming her ecstasy as he pounded inside her. As she didn't seem to mind, Thor stretched himself over her, holding her down as he enjoyed the seductive sound of skin meeting skin.

"Our son will grow, and then our daughter. Another and another until our children populate the stars. And through every age and stage, I will love you with passion and worship the beauty that is my wife. Never again will I seek solace in arms not yours, but prepare yourself, wife. I have large appetites," he growled in her ear.

She smiled wickedly. "I like your appetite. No man would please me. Only a God." 

He jerked her from the stone, standing her upright, a hand clamped around her throat and the other splayed across her belly. He poured more power into her, assuring himself she would grow ripe with his child this night and bit down on her shoulder. 

Sif shrieked and arched hard, body pulsing through his again, sucking and milking him until he could not resist, and once again pumped his seed inside her. 

She moaned and went limp in his arms as his magic thrummed through the land, and his seed rested heavy and thick in her womb. He held her up, waiting for that spark of life to take root, unwilling to leave her body until it did. 

When it bloomed brightly into existence, he laughed, and lightning danced in blazing arcs across the sky.

He gathered the exhausted Sif into his arms, stirring her from her slumber when he laid her in his cape.

"Thor?" She lifted a slow hand to his face. 

"Rest, beloved wife." He held her hand to his face. "Even now, you grow my son." 

She smiled, her eyes closing. "Take me home."

He wrapped her up tight and warm before putting his armour on all while watching his power work through her, changing her into one of Asgard. When she woke, she would shock the world with her beauty.

His Goddess. His wife. His Sif.

Gathering her gently to his arms, Thor pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, "Let's go home."

***

The last night of the feast days, Thor returned to Midgard and stood again in the shadows, but this time he watched from inside the Jarl's hall. When a lull came, he revealed himself in a flash of like and crack of thunder. 

All jumped, spun to face him, and dropped quickly to their knees.

"The God Thor Grace's my humble keep with his presence. A cup of ale for the Prince of Asgard?"

Thor held up his hand to halt the serving girl. "I came to tell you I will accept no more sacrifices."

A nervous murmur ran restlessly through the people.

The Jarl stood, anger darkening his face. "It was this last one, wasn't it? She displeased you. I knew it was a mistake to send her!"

"Cease speaking before I take your tongue!" Thor roared. "I will take no more sacrifices because my wife, mother of my heir, will not be dishonoured by me. She holds my honour. I will not break it between another's thighs." He held out his hand to Sif, her delicate fingers curling over his palm as he led her in slow reveal from the shadows. "Behold my lady."

A wreath of harvest wheat and fall berries crowned her his queen. Leather and metal encased her body, grabbing her as the Shieldmaiden she was. Fur clung to her shoulders, tangling with the midnight fall of wild curls. 

When her face was revealed, those gathered gasped in surprise. 

Thor only smiled, his eyes on her. "My gracious lady. Goddess of the Harvest. Sif, beloved of Thor and honoured princess of Asgard. Already my mother adores her," he chuckled, having lost her to Frigga for half a day.

Her blush was beautiful. "Husband, you embarrass me."

He laughed and swept her against him. "You sacrificed one you felt unworthy of the honour of being your wife, Jarl Jorgenson, and in turn found me my wife. The land is blessed for one hundred years. When next you sacrifice for the Harvest Blessing, you sacrifice to Sif. What do you require, my love?"

She smiled and cupped his cheek, knowing her answer as they'd spoken of it before returning. "The best buck of the goats born that year, the best bull, and one gold item of exquisite value to gift Frigga, my mother who blesses my marriage to her son."

Thor grinned with delight. "The Goddess of the Harvest has spoken, Jarl. We return in a year with our son to collect your offering." 

They disappeared in a flash of lightning and crash of thunder that appeared to echo with their joy.


	4. Pumpkin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
Congratulations on 7k! That’s absolutely amazing and you deserve every one and more! I absolutely love fall and Halloween, so I am so excited for this! What about domestic Clint and the reader going to a pumpkin patch/corn maze and it’s just being all fluffy and sweet? 💜💜💜
> 
> Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, Clint being adorable

* * *

“Oh!” you squealed and bent down to hug a pumpkin. “Let’s get this one!”

“Babe,” Clint chuckled. “It’s enormous.”

You caressed the outer shell and pouted, well aware it was huge. “But just think of the crazy Jack-o-Lantern we could carve. We’d win pumpkin carving for sure!”

He shook his head. “You’re going to make me pick that up, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you nodded. The three-foot by two-foot pumpkin wasn’t _ that _ big.

He sighed and started to stretch. 

“Really?” you huffed. 

“You want me to pull something? I’m an Avenger. What if giant space walrus invaded, and I'm out of commission because I pulled something picking up a pumpkin?”

You rolled your eyes. “If a giant space walrus invades, I’ll write you a note excusing you from fighting. Now, are you going to pick this pumpkin up, or do I have to do it?”

“As you’re nearly as big as that pumpkin, I would think you’d know better.”

“Did you just call me fat?” You arched an accusatory brow and struggled to stand out of your crouch.

“Pregnant is not fat!” he huffed, helping heave you to your feet. “And that’s my peanut in there, so stop making me sound bad in front of him or her.”

You smirked, pressed up on your toes, and kissed him a quick peck. “I love you, babe.”

“Feh. Stop buttering me up. I’m getting your damn pumpkin.”

But as he moved around you, you gasped when there was a distinct _ pop _ and gush of fluid down your legs. “Forget the pumpkin.”

“You want the pumpkin; you don’t want the pumpkin. Woman, make up your damn-” 

You punched him on the arm. “Clint! We’re having our pumpkin right the heck now!” you shouted, pointing at the puddle forming in the dirt between your feet. 

“Oh, shit! Peanut’s on the way? Peanut’s on the way!” He yanked you off your feet and began to run through the field. “Peanut’s coming right now!” he shouted to the rest of the team, also selecting pumpkins.

“Oh, my God, Clint,” you sighed. “I swear if you fall on your face…” 

“I won’t. I promise!” But he slowed to a jog as the others raced for the vehicles. 

***

Hours later, you smiled as you watch Clint coo at your baby girl. You’d refused to call her Spook, Treat, Candy, or anything else Halloween related, born on the thirty first of October or not, and settled on Autumn. 

“She’s perfect, babe,” Clint sighed and brought her to you. 

“Let’s just hope she’s not as clumsy as you,” you chuckled. 

He scoffed but settled on the bed beside you, handed you the baby and kissed the top of your head. “You sure we can’t call her Pumpkin?”

“No, Clint. We’re not calling her Pumpkin.”

  
-_The End-_


	5. Clever Costumes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
For the drabbles... I would love to see Loki × pregnant OFC/reader. Something fluffy or maybe something sexy if you want! Norns Goddess definitely put this in my head 😅 I think he would be so doting and adorable!  
mywildestdreamings said:  
For drabble day: Thor or Loki (or both) being forced by their significant other to do a couples costume. SO can be reader or OFC (cause I love all of yours). Bonus points if it's a shitty costume from Spirit 🎃🎃🎃🎃
> 
> Warnings: All the fluff

* * *

"Honestly, darling, must we?" Loki whined, plucking at the terrible costume.

"This," you pointed at your large round girth, "is half your fault. Ergo if the only costume that fits me is Queen Bee, you, sweet, wonderful husband, can be the Beekeeper."

You knew the costumes were hideous, purchased from Spirit of Halloween, but at seven months pregnant, your options were limited. 

"But, my love," he cooed and ran his hands over your belly. "I think you would look splendid dressed in traditional Asgardian garb."

You wrinkled your nose. Asgardian garb always felt like too much or not enough clothing. "It's going to be hot at the Tower. I'm already uncomfortable enough."

"I swear on my brother you will adore what the expectant mothers of Asgard wear. Please, pet. Allow me to show you?"

You sighed but finally nodded. He was so sweet and attentive, so excited for the birth of his child; you couldn't help but give in to this one request.

He cupped your chin and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. As your libido was out of control with your pregnancy, you chased after his lips when he drew away, causing him to chuckle.

"We could just stay home," you murmured.

"When you look so stunning?"

You frowned, then looked down and gasped in pleased surprise. Soft organza in forest green flowed from an empire waist gown down to pool around your feet. Precious metals acted like a pretty belt that rested high beneath your breasts and held the straps firmly on your shoulders. Little bells and chains of gold jingled against your bare upper arms and swung in your hair when you moved. 

Seconds later, you burst into tears.

Loki gasped and grabbed your arms. "If you hate it, my love, I can change it, but please don't cry!"

"I-I love it!" you wailed. 

"Oh, pet," Loki purred. "You're so beautiful."

You sniffled the quickly drying tears away. "This is so nice. But is it really a costume?"

"We'll tell everyone you are the Goddess of Spring." He waved his hand, and his clothing changed to that of Warrior God complete with antlers. "And I will be the forest spirit intent on capturing my wayward bride."

You giggled and ran your hands down his open front shirt. "And will you catch me?"

"Oh, darling." Again his hand swept over the swell of your belly. "I already have."

You laughed and followed him as you left your suite and went to join the others. As soon as you entered the room, your gaze landed on Thor, and you snorted. 

"I see Thor was not so lucky in changing Jane's mind," Loki snickered.

"She does make an excellent Thor," you giggled, though her costume was also the crappy plastic kind one would get from Spirit.

Thor, however, looked incredibly uncomfortable in his glasses and lab coat. 

"Thank you for letting me change your costume, pet," Loki whispered, his kisses trailing over your shoulder. 

You hummed your pleasure. "Loki?" 

"Yes, my love?" he asked, his hands continually touching you or your baby belly. 

"Next year, I want to wear your costume."

He froze, then curled his arm around you, drawing you back against his chest while you tried not to laugh. "I'm not wearing your catsuit," he growled.

Your giggles echoed throughout the room.

_-The End-_


	6. Clowns Make For Crappy Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dark-angel-be-thirsty-af asked:  
Hi! Congrats on 7k!!! May I please make a request for the Halloween/Fall drabble for the celebration? Could it be that in honour of Halloween Bucky and the reader watch scary/horror/thriller movies but over time the reader becomes scaredish and Bucky kinda consoles them? Sorry, I'm not entirely good at explaining haha. If you don't like it don't sweat it, it's all goods 😊
> 
> Warnings: None

* * *

You couldn't remember why you agreed to this. Okay, yes, you could. It had to do with an extreme amount of teasing from Natasha and Sam. You didn't like horror movies, especially ones about killer clowns. But the teasing was all in good fun, and you felt the need to be a "good sport" about it. So there you were, curled up in the corner of the sofa, watching Pennywise terrorize the children

Steven King was a sadist. It was the only explanation for the outrageousness of his imagination.

At the beginning of the movie, you'd been sandwiched on the loveseat between Sam and Natasha, but they had seen It before and knew just when to poke, prod, or nudge you to make you jump higher and scream louder than ever. 

After the third time, you'd forgone their company and settled on the sofa behind them, determined to ride this out without _ that _kind of support. Because now you were invested. Now you needed to see how it ended. 

You were curled in the tightest ball, eyes glued to the screen when a hand dropped on your shoulder. Your scream could have shattered glass. 

"Jeez, I was gonna ask how it's going, but I think I figured it out," Bucky chuckled, rubbing his ear.

You smacked him three times with the pillow you'd been clutching. "Why the hell would you do that? Dammit! I nearly wet myself!"

"Shhhhhh!!!" Nat and Sam hissed.

Bucky crouched at the back of the sofa, still snickering after dodging the repeated blows. "Scared?"

"Terrified. Why did I agree to this?" you whispered.

He climbed over the couch and settled beside you, separated by a few inches with his arm along the back. "Mind if I watch a bit?"

"It's your nightmares," you muttered, already focused on the TV. 

As the movie progressed, you returned to being pillow clutched to your chest, knees up against it, cowering behind the pseudo protection, never noticing how you inched closer and closer to Bucky. Eventually, you were curled into his side, the heavy weight of his metal arm resting against your back and hand on your hip as you hid your face in his chest rather than the pillow.

At a particularly scary part, one you weren't watching but hiding from in his chest, you felt the warmth of his palm skim beneath your knees and pull your legs into his lap, along with the rest of you. 

That lifted your head, surprised and a little confused by his actions. "Bucky?"

"Why are you torturing yourself with this?" he whispered. "You're not going to sleep tonight."

"Who are you kidding?" you murmured. "I won't sleep for a week."

"Maybe I can help with that?"

Before you could ask what he meant, his mouth was soft on yours, his tongue a gentle tease against your lips. You forgot all about the movie, Pennywise, and how creepy clowns were when you sank into the kiss. 

Everything about it sizzled in slow motion. His hand on your face that slipped back to curl against your nape. The tender bite he paid your lip. The way he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. 

There was a moan trapped in your chest that escaped when you tangled your hand in his hair. 

Bucky hummed, pleasure in the sound, and stroked the roof of your mouth with the tip of his tongue.

He drew back slowly, a smile curling his lips. "Hopefully, that keeps the clowns away."

You curled closer, feeling the evidence of his desire beneath you. "Just to be sure, maybe you should stay with me tonight?"

"Just tonight?" 

"Maybe all week," you grinned. 

Bucky chuckled and stood, carrying you easily as he left the theatre.

You never did see how It ended, preferring Bucky's ending instead.

_-The End-_


	7. Double Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> novashine666 said:  
Congratulations on reaching 7K followers T!! You most certainly deserve all the love that's coming your way as you are an amazing author and person to speak to for just about anything!! Now for my ask, and it took me a moment to think of something as I'm reading your page, but what about a Halloween themed bit with Triune and Loki pulling some sort of mischief in the Avengers Compound? I know she's Steve's but you gotta admit, Loki and Triune can get into all kinds of trouble together!!  
wingsyouburn said:  
So come to find out Tumblr ate the other half of my ask! lol For the drabble celebration, how about something with Steve and Bucky being responsible for trick or treating festivities for the Avengers? Perhaps with more tricks than treats, reminiscent of when they were kids in Brooklyn. Given that sugar was rationed during WWII, I can see both Bucky and Steve being really into it. Maybe some of the other Avengers want to get in on the fun?
> 
> Warnings: language, violence, adorable Bucky and Steve
> 
> Part of the Attention series with Steve Rogers

* * *

"Wow, you'd think you guys had never seen candy before."

Steve smirked at his girl, Triune, where she stood all decked out in her phoenix form. She looked sweet but spicy with the feathers and flames, and he wanted her more than the candy at the moment. "Dollface, sugar was rationed most of the war."

"And expensive before that," Bucky murmured around a mouthful of peanut butter cup. "Oh, my god. Steve."

Another was shoved in his face, and Steve grinned as he peeled the wrapper off and ate it in one bite. His taste buds cried for joy. "Oh, my God. That's my new favourite."

Triune laughed and shook her head. "You're supposed to be giving it out to the kids, not chowing down, you big lugs."

"There's plenty," Bucky mumbled, another peanut butter cup disappearing into his mouth.

Steve chuckled but snaked his hand out and grabbed Triune by the waist. "What's your favourite, little phoenix?"

"Depends," she purred, sinking into him, her body hot and soft. "This form likes Hot Tamales. The fairy prefers Starbursts."

"And the demon?" 

Her eyes flashed black, and darkness began to thread through her hair. "The demon likes candy apples. Especially the poison ones offered to annoying fangirls that can't take a hint."

Steve chuckled and spun his demon mate into the wall. People called her eyes soulless in this form, but he knew better. They were black pools of endless night, ones he could easily fall into, but she would always be there to protect him from the darkness.

"Now, baby, you know I only have eyes for you," he murmured, kissing her dark mouth.

Her teeth sank into his lip, drew a little blood, and made him groan. It was like having three women all wrapped up in one. Each form had needs, desires, wants, but beneath it all was still Y/N, holding his heart. 

"Make out later. We got stuff," Bucky mumbled around more candy. 

Triune growled at him, but let Steve pull away. She was possessive like this, as they well knew after the incident a year ago with Verona. 

Lately, he had what the others had termed a superfan. Her name was Jenny, and she came to all their public events, always made sure she was front and center and did all she could to draw his attention.

Triune didn't like it. The world knew Steve's fairy girl was his one and only, but some people just couldn't take a hint. And some people were a little crazier than was good for them. Most of his fans were respectful; this one was not.

"Don't eat all the candy, Barnes," she warned, her demeanour shifting back to the phoenix. 

"Don't burn down the corn maze," Bucky quipped.

Steve glanced at the two entrances. One said, "Beware the Demon and God of Mischief," in big dripping letters, while the other said, "For Those Faint of Heart." 

Natasha stood at the entrance with Sam to make sure those who shouldn't be entering the horror maze didn't.

"I can't believe you and Loki are doing this."

She laughed, her eyes dancing. "Oh, we're doing this. We've been looking forward to it since we terrorized that Hydra base. Steve, it was so fun!"

"Just… don't give anyone a heart attack, and remember the safe word."

She pressed her hot body back into his and smiled wickedly. "Captain, I _ always _ remember the safe word." Red talons plucked at the panels of his stealth suit. "It's not my fault you forget to use it."

Bucky snorted water through his nose. "Christ! Can you two not? Damn."

"If you'd ever stop eavesdropping, Sergeant," she smirked and sauntered away, ass swaying in tight pants.

Steve tilted his head and watched her go. 

"So…"

He glanced at Bucky.

"You into a little slap with your tickle, punk?"

Steve smirked and shrugged. "The fairy can be rather persuasive when she wants to be."

Bucky's mouth fell open, and Steve laughed in his face.

***

You bounced excitedly up to Sam and Nat, listening as Steve laughed behind you. "Are we ready?"

"Yup," Sam grinned. "But I'm not going in there to get people out if they safe word. Once was enough. That shit is freaky."

"You are such a pussy," Loki smirked, striding out of the darkness.

Sam rolled his eyes. "And you're a freak. I've seen your illusions. Some poor sap is gonna die."

"And that's why they sign a waiver." Natasha flourished a tablet and pen with a legal document each guest would have to sign before being allowed into the horror side of the maze. The tame side was for anyone, young, old, or in between, but only those with iron constitutions and nerves of steel would make it through yours. 

And, you were really hoping Cap's superfan took a trip through your domain. You wouldn't hurt her, but you were going to scare the pants off her.

The Avengers Fall Fair was a new concept, a community outreach program Tony had implemented. Everything had been brought to the compound outside L.A on his dime, and that included a makeshift corn maze Loki had helped beef up. Illusions were his specialty after all, and when he found out he could make as much mischief as liked, he'd been happy to help.

There were vendors and rides and crafters. Avenger hosted areas like the corn maze, pumpkin fireball - Thor's domain - and the petting zoo Wanda and Vision were running. And, overseeing it all, Iron Man in shiny red and gold.

Things were just ramping up, and you exchanged a glance with Loki as black bled through your hair. "Shall we?"

He offered his elbow. "Oh, yes, love. We shall." 

You laughed wickedly and walked into the dark on his arm.

***

"You know she's gonna have it out for your superfan if Jenny goes in there," Bucky snickered, a sucker stick sticking out between his lips. 

"I know. Not sure whether to feel pity or pleasure at the idea," Steve chuckled and grinned at the little girl dressed as a fairy when he dropped a handful of candy in her plastic pumpkin bucket.

"You thinking about one of those?" Bucky nodded after the girl when her parents walked her away. 

"Not anytime soon. Helen needs to do some tests. We may need to catch Triune on another heatwave to make it happen."

Bucky's grin widened. "So, you are thinking about it!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Maybe."

A scream of blood-curdling terror had him whipping around. Then one of Loki's portals popped open, and a kid about twenty stumbled out white as a ghost. 

"Better luck next time," Loki smirked and disappeared. 

From the center of the maze rose a shadowy figure on huge bat-like wings. Triune burst quickly into flames, roared fire into the air, and then laughed with terrible intent as the shadows took her over again. 

"Dear God, that's terrifying."

"Isn't she amazing?" Steve grinned, his heart full of pride. 

"Glad she's on our side," Bucky chuckled.

"Captain America!"

Steve flinched internally, locked eyes with Bucky, and sighed before turning around. "Happy Halloween," he nodded to Jenny, dressed like a Shield Agent. 

"Isn't this great?" she quipped, her smile bright. "Can I get a quick picture?" 

She took it before Steve could say yes or no. 

"You look so good, Captain, in that suit. It's my absolute favourite on you. Not that you don't look good in the others." She stroked her hand up and down his arm.

"Candy?" He held out a handful, hopeful she'd take the hint and move on.

Her eyes grew round, and she sparkled with joy. "For me? Thanks!"

"It's free for everyone, ma'am," Bucky said sullenly. 

Some of that shine dulled. "Oh, well, that's fine. I still got this from you, Captain Rogers. I'd hoped you be out walking around like Iron Man so we could hang out and get to know one another better." She peered up at him with big unblinking eyes. 

"Candy duty." Steve pointed at the table.

"Surely Sergeant Barnes could handle it?" she asked hopefully. 

"Nah, he's here to keep me from eatin' it all," Bucky smirked. "Sugar was rationed when we were young. This is like heaven," Buck said, biting into a Tootsie Roll with relish.

"Oh." Her nose wrinkled. "Well, maybe I'll just hang out here."

Steve sighed, enough really was enough. "Look, it's Jenny, right?" She nodded eagerly. "You seem like a nice girl-"

"Ixnay, Rogers," Bucky murmured when her face lit up.

"But I've got a girl I love. It's nice you're a fan, but that's all this is. I'm sorry if you thought it was something else."

Her face darkened. "You think that mutt of a mutant is better than me?"

"Psycho alert," Bucky whispered.

"I don't appreciate your tone or the slander of my mate," Steve growled, standing to his full height. 

"Mate! See, she's no better than an animal! I'll show you. I'll show all of you, I'm better than her!"

Jenny stormed toward Natasha and the entrance to the maze. 

"No. Wait. Don't do it," Bucky mumbled far too low for Jenny to hear.

Steve snickered. "She's all yours, baby."

***

"Darling," Loki purred through the comms you were using. "It appears your Captain finally gave your rival the brush off. She is on an angry march our way."

You laughed, low and dark, causing the couple you were hunting to shriek and sprint ahead. "Come play with this pair. That ho is _ mine_."

"Do not kill her," Loki whispered as he passed you like a spectre, little more than a brush of air.

"I never kill. Just play," you purred, cutting through the corn until you could hide in the shadows near the entrance and listen to the bitch howl.

"Look, lady," Sam sighed. "_I _don't want to go in there. You _ really _ shouldn't venture into the dark."

"Oh, come on, Sammy," Natasha cooed. "These children have to make their own mistakes."

If you hadn't already loved her, you would now.

Sam grumbled something you couldn't quite hear and finally huffed, "Sign the damn waiver. It releases us from all liability if you do something stupid or have a heart attack."

Jenny's signature was audible, especially when she threw the tablet at Natasha. "You all act like that three-faced bitch is something special when all she really is, is trash!"

You could just see Sam and watched him stiffen, his face turning hard before holding out his arm to direct her through the archway. "Welcome to hell. Enjoy your stay."

You draped your bat wings around you and waited until she passed your hiding place before laughing. The sound was hollow, dark, empty, and she jumped and spun around. Green magic shimmered over the opening and made it appear as if thorns barred the way back. 

"Run," you whispered. "Run. Run. _ Run _!"

She bolted, and you cackled. This was going to be so much fun.

You launched upward, hovering in the darkness, tracking her frantic path through the maze. She was hitting every one of Loki's traps, causing ghosts and illusions to leap and scream and generally terrify her. Then she turned down a blind corner into a dead end, and you dropped silently down behind her.

When she turned, you stretched your wings high and lightly stroked the backs of serrated, black talons over your cheek. "Little fangirl, it's not nice to call people names," you purred, gliding toward her. "And it's very, very dangerous to try and take what belongs to me."

She stumbled back, but there was nowhere to go when she smacked into the barrier Loki erected to keep people out.

"Monster! You don't deserve him!" she screamed. 

You moved faster than she could see and slammed your hands to the barrier on either side of her head. "And you do? You're delusional. He's my mate."

"You're no better than an animal. Mongrel! Stupid bitch! He's perfect, and you're a disease that must be eradicated from his life!"

Crazy. She was bat shit nuts. You could see it now cracking through her perky mask, and when she whipped out a gun, you fell back, your hands raised. "What are you doing, Jenny?" you murmured.

"Solving all my problems," she whispered and pulled the trigger.

***

The gunshot was loud and whipped Steve's head up. When a scream of rage and pain followed it, he was already running.

"Jesus! She had a gun?" Bucky asked, barreling after him.

"I don't know, but that's my girl!" Steve shouted and raced into the maze. "Triune!"

"Triune!" Bucky shouted. 

"Triune!" Sam shouted from his wings above them.

"Triune!" Nat cried, somewhere ahead of them.

"Here," her voice was more petulant than painful, and some of Steve's fear faded. 

Suddenly, a way opened straight through the maze for them, and Steve finally had eyes on his girl.

Loki was with her, holding a swiftly reddening cloth to her shoulder. 

"Oh, my god! She shot you!" He'd kill her if Y/N hadn't already. "How bad is it?"

"It's straight through. She managed to miss anything vital. Hurts like fuck, though," she grumbled. "If someone would let me switch forms, I could stop bleeding down my arm."

"When you stop bleeding down your arm, you may change forms," Loki quipped.

They had a weird brother/sister vibe Steve didn't understand but also didn't dislike - she'd been a good influence on Loki, though he wasn't sure about his influence on Triune - and stepped forward to collect Y/N to him, taking over holding the bandage from Loki. 

He leaned his forehead on hers and shook a little. "Well, that was terrifying."

"And I was having such a good time," she pouted. 

"Where is she?'

Y/N nodded to her left, where Bucky and Nat were standing over Jenny. 

"And the gun?"

Two pieces fell from her fingers. Triune had cleaved the gun in half. "She only got one off before I kicked her crazy ass."

"Yeah," Nat muttered, poking Jenny with her foot. "She's going to be out for a while."

Steve glared at the woman. "Good. Let the cops deal with her. Stark?"

Iron Man landed seconds later. "Local PD is on the way. You okay, fairy girl?" She nodded. "Good thing you're a tough little demon," he chuckled. "I've had Friday let the lawyers know we'll be filing restraining orders on Jenny William's for you both. You'll have to give a statement to police, Triune if you want to press charges."

"Oh, I'm pressing charges. She's obsessed with him."

Steve captured her hand before she could poke him in the chest.

"I've only got eyes for you, Tinkerbell," he chuckled. "But, I think you should come pass out candy with me and let Buck take your place hunting people through here."

"Alright! Knife bros!" Bucky cheered and punched Loki in the arm. 

"I will stab you," Loki grumbled.

"Don't be so emo. C'mon! This will be fun!" Bucky rubbed his hands together gleefully. 

"I suppose you're right," Y/N sighed. "Well, it was fun while it lasted," she grinned, a flash of flames taking her over and her wings disappearing. "I did get to kick her ass."

"Yeah, you did," Sam snickered.

"We'll send the cops to you when they get here," Nat smiled. "For now, go rest. I've got crazy superfan."

Steve slung Triune up in his arms and headed for the entrance.

"I could walk, you know," she teased.

"I like you where you are. Scared a year off my life with that gunshot."

She pressed a warm kiss to his temple. "Plus, sympathy votes," she whispered as he passed the people waiting for their return.

They all looked on in concern.

"You know what else this helps with?" Steve asked after assuring people she was okay and the person responsible was in custody.

"What?"

"It gets Bucky out of the candy. I think he ate half of it."

She laughed until she saw all the wrappers. "Holy crap."

"What can I say? He has a sweet tooth."

-_The End-_


	8. Vampire Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> novashine666 said:  
Okay, just finished your newest chapter for Qi and it got me thinking again! If you're still taking ideas for your 7K Followers celebration for Halloween/Fall, here's another one from me. How about Celine helping Peter with a Halloween them for a school function or something to that affect. I think it'd just be the cutest thing, especially with his Puppy-Hero worship of our lovely Celine, as well as Peter's close friend/brother. I always forget his name!!
> 
> Warnings: Celine and Peter make mischief

* * *

Ned bounced excitedly on his toes. "Oh, man! Oh, man! Oh, man! I can't believe she said yes!"

"Be cool, man, jeez!" Peter huffed, watching Celine walk towards them. They'd been waiting for her at the school's front doors so they could show her around. "She's really awesome beyond how pretty she is."

Ned snorted. "Pete, that woman is gorgeous. To call her anything else is an understatement."

"She's also with Steve and Bucky," he sighed, a little jealous, but then she'd always been out of his sixteen-year-old reach.

"Lucky," Ned grumbled before bounding forward with a wave. "Hi, Celine! Hi!"

"Ned," she smiled, slow and sultry as was her way. "Nice to see you again." Then she turned her amber eyes on him, and Peter felt a blush burn his cheeks. "Little spider." She ruffled his hair. "Best take me to your Principal's office so I may introduce myself."

"Yeah, right. Of course. He's waiting." Peter nodded vigorously.

She chuckled softly, her fingertips dancing over his red cheek, a knowing smile on her lips. 

It had been a year since Celine joined the team, and in that time, Peter had learned she was just inherently sexy. Her movements were those of a graceful feline, her touch innocently sensual. She meant nothing by it, not with him, at least. He'd managed to catch a glimpse of how she was with Steve and Bucky and like Ned said. Lucky.

Even so, he couldn't help but babble a little as he led her through the quiet halls of the school during midday. His Academic Decathlon team had volunteered to run the haunted house slash Halloween dance this year, using the haunted house as a fundraiser, and a few of the students were charged with providing an adult to both supervise and assist.

Peter had immediately shot his hand up, stating how he knew someone, and he'd see if she could help out.

Of course, everyone thought he meant Pepper or maybe Natasha - what with his "internship" at Stark Industries - but he only grinned because who better to help out with Halloween than a vampire?

They led Celine into the office, where the receptionist was busy on the phone. The woman looked up and dropped the receiver, then scrambled to pick it up, a dark blush burning her face. 

Peter knew the feeling and waved at her before pointing to Mr. Morita’s office. She nodded, still flustered, and Peter sent her a sympathetic smile. 

A quick knock had Morita grumbling, “Come!”

Peter slipped through the door ahead of Celine. “Mr. Morita? This is my friend Celine Ena. She’s my volunteer for the haunted house.”

The man, staring intently at his computer monitor, turned his head without moving his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ena. I appreciate you coming to help…” He flicked his eyes up, down, and back up, his mouth falling open.

Peter exchanged a smirk with Ned as Morita did a double-take. 

She always looked incredible, but today Celine looked especially nice. She’d taken his warning that they’d be building and moving things to heart, arriving in jeans and a plaid shirt she’d tied and knotted at her waist. The shirt was big and familiar - one of Steve’s he’d bet - while the leather jacket could only belong to Bucky. Even in clothing too big for her, she was still beautiful with her chestnut hair tied up in a ponytail and only a hint of makeup.

“It’s my pleasure. I’ve missed having students to interact with,” she said softly. 

Morita swallowed thickly. “Are, were, are, have you… teacher?”

She chuckled, but it wasn’t mean, only slightly amused. “Yes. I taught at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters for some years before I was tasked with moving to New York.”

“Xavier… Xavier…” They could all see Morita working the name over in his mind. 

“Celine’s a mutant,” Ned blurted.

“Ned!” Peter barked and slapped a hand to his face.

“It’s alright, Peter,” she placated and lifted a hand to send sparkles of gold shimmering around her fingers. “Energy manipulation. I work with the Avengers now but taught languages, history, and self-defence at the school. I promise not to be any trouble,” she smiled in that way of hers.

Morita seemed to melt over the desk, hearts beginning to float over his head. “Of course, you won’t. Thank you for coming, Mrs. Ena.”

“It’s miss-”

Morita shot to his feet. “Well, then. Why don’t I show you around the school while these boys get back to the gymnasium?”

“Peter gave me a tour on my way here, but thank you. I have limited time, and he needs me.” 

Shot down, Morita plopped back into his chair. “Maybe we could have coffee one day? Talk about having you come in as a guest teacher?”

“While I’m not averse to speaking with your students, I will have to decline coffee. I’m afraid my men are… territorial.” She smiled and turned on her heel. “A pleasure meeting you, Principal Morita.”

Peter and Ned ran into each other trying to follow her out of the office. They scrambled, and Peter snuck out first, trotting after Celine who prowled out into the hall and waited. 

“That was the smoothest rejection I’ve ever seen.”

She glanced at Ned, the corner of her mouth turning up. “I’ve had a little practice.”

“Would you really come in and talk to the class?” Ned asked, his smile goofy.

“If we can find something for me to speak on that won’t embarrass my knowledge,” Celine chuckled. “Science and technology are not my forte.”

“But I’ve seen you help Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed. 

“My knowledge is basic. Enough to get by.”

“You could just come in and talk about being a mutant,” Ned offered. “They’re still pretty elusive. If more people met someone like you, maybe it would help close the gap?”

She arched a brow but tilted her head. “You’re quite right, Ned. I will think about it.”

Peter grinned and grabbed her hand, tugging her along toward the gym where the rest of the group waited. The other parents had already been in to start decorating the gymnasium and build the walls that separated the different sections of the haunted house that had been set up in a few adjoining rooms. 

Peter slammed through the doors, making Celine giggle, drawing the attention of everyone working. “Hey, guys! This is Celine. Celine, everyone!”

Silence reigned supreme until Flash scurried down a ladder and over to the amused Celine. “Hey, pretty lady. What are you doing hanging out with this loser?”

“Flash,” Peter sighed. 

Celine’s amusement died instantly, and her hair began to curl, turning black as her eyes took on that glow. “_Peter _ is my friend. You will not speak of him that way again in my presence.” Golden chi curled out from Celine’s hands to wrap around Flash and drag him closer so she could grasp him by the chin. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Flash squeaked. 

“Hm.” She narrowed her eyes, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Watch yourself, Eugene. You are a selfish, spoiled, arrogant, ignorant little boy quickly growing into the self-same as a man. Men like that do not survive my judgement.”

She released him and walked on, her chi returning to her and disappearing as she returned to normal. 

Peter shrugged as he passed the stunned Flash and hurried after Celine with Ned. 

“She’s so cool,” Ned sighed. 

Peter one hundred percent agreed. 

Celine headed for the man in the yellow gold blazer. “You must be Mr. Harrington. Peter speaks highly of you.”

His mouth opened and closed before he seemed to find his voice. “Roger, please. Thank you for coming to help.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” she smiled. 

“Wow,” Mr. Harrington - Roger - whispered. 

“You’ve got a little drool happening there, sir,” MJ snarked, motioning to her chin. “And aren’t you married?”

Celine turned toward MJ with a brow arched, looked her over and sighed. “I will take this one. Peter, Ned, come. Show me what you need my help with.”

She breezed out the opposite doors, and everyone sighed with her exit as if they'd been holding their breath.

"Damn, Parker," Abe muttered. "That's one fine looking woman."

Peter rolled his eyes, suddenly realizing how often Celine was objectified. "C'mon, Ned." A little less enthused, he followed Celine.

MJ fell in beside him. "What's her deal?"

"Deal?" Peter frowned.

"You know. Deal. I don't know what she said to Flash, but I've never seen him look so ashamed before. Who is she?"

"She's Celine. She's great!" Peter grinned.

"But what's her _ deal _?" MJ prompted. "Clearly, she's got powers."

"Oh!" Peter's eyes widened. "Um, well, she's, ugh, that is to say, she… I…" He pushed out the doors and scurried into the first "room" of the haunted house.

"What Peter is trying so hard not to say is I'm a mutant, Ms. Jones. I manipulate energy, read emotions, and have varied other skills."

"Varied other skills? Is that like when Ms. Romanoff says she's got varied other skills and then pulls out a knife to clean her nails?"

Celine smiled. "Something like that." She had a look around. "Are we to cover the walls and windows in the black sheeting?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded.

"Alright. Ms. Jones can assist me." She shrugged out of Bucky's jacket and tossed it on a chair.

"Me?"

"Her?" Peter squeaked.

"What about the other thin-"

Peter punched Ned in the arm. "Not now."

"Peter?" Celine frowned.

"I'll… ask later. C'mon, Ned!" He dragged his friend out the door. 

"Damn man! That hurt!" Ned hissed. "And why didn't you ask her about tonight?" 

"I will; I will. Just… later." When he could find his nerve.

***

"Okay," MJ muttered as the boys left. "Is he always that squirrelly around you?"

"He's a teenage boy. He's like that around all women," Celine chuckled, familiar with the girl after all the pictures Peter had shown her. "Would you like to hold the cloth or climb the ladder?"

"I'm more a supervisor than a participant."

"Ladder it is then."

MJ sighed.

Fighting not to laugh, Celine shifted the ladder over and gathered the next panel of cloth and bucket of thumbtacks. Then she looked pointedly at MJ.

The girl reluctantly climbed the ladder. "So. Mutant. What's that like?"

"Like being human only with more issues."

"Issues?"

"Mm. You have to worry about breakouts and body odour. When I was your age, I had those same issues, plus the added bonus of trying not to injure or kill someone with my powers by accident. It's like puberty on crack."

"Looks like you came out alright," she grumbled, accepting the corner of the cloth.

"Looks can be deceiving. I did not have an easy life or a nice school for much of the beginning. I was lucky, though. My home found me."

"What's that mean?"

"Charles Xavier. He found me at my lowest and offered me a new life." Celine tilted her head. "You don't like me. Pity when we don't know each other."

MJ snorted and fell silent. Celine let the silence stretch, finishing up three panels before MJ spit out what she'd been holding in. "He talks about you all the time."

Celine didn't need to ask who, not when the girl had been lit up with jealous yellows from the moment Celine arrived. "I could say the same of you."

She almost tumbled off the ladder. "What?"

"Peter. He talks about you. How smart you are." She glanced up at the girl through her lashes. "How pretty."

MJ tucked her chin. "He calls you beautiful."

"I was born like this, nothing more. And one can admire skin-deep beauty, but it is those who can see past it to your core that you keep around."

MJ said nothing for another few minutes; then a smug little grin curled her lips. "He really talks about me?"

"He does."

"Good."

Celine chuckled. "I like you, MJ. A girl after my own heart."

"Are you really dating both Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes?"

She laughed but nodded. "I am." Though it was so much more than that. "Now." Celine lifted her hand and sent chi wicking through the air to hang and tack all the fabric in seconds. "What is it Peter didn't tell me about tonight?"

MJ gaped at the wall. "You could have done that this whole time? Why the heck am I up here?"

"How else was I to become friends with you if you had a chance to run away?" 

"Man, you are tricky. I like it," she chuckled.

"Thank you, MJ. I'm learning from Tony," she smirked. "Now, this big secret?"

MJ climbed down. "Well, even though this is a fundraiser for our club, we've split up into three sections, and three groups. We're competitive that way. Our house is last, and Peter said you could make stuff out of nothing."

"In a way." Tricky little spider, just what had he gotten her into?

"Well, he thought maybe you could spook up the last part of the house. People get to vote on which section is best, and that team gets bonus grades and free lunch for a month in the cafeteria. Granted, the last part isn't exactly an enticement for anyone but Ned, but free is free and bragging rights are worth a lot in this school. Plus we all want to kick Flash's ass."

"I'm with you so far." Flash was a little prick who's ass Celine also wanted to kick.

"Well, Peter though something Anne Rice would be good. Something spooky but not gory because we now Flash is going all out with the gore."

"And?" Celine hummed, not liking where this was going. 

"He wants you to be the vampire queen."

Celine closed her eyes and sighed before turning toward the jumpy aura of Peter Parker, the boy clearly listening in. "Peter!" she bellowed and smirked when his aura flinched. 

A few seconds later, he meekly stuck his head in the room. "Y-yes, Celine?"

"The vampire queen?" He paled and babbled an apology, but Celine held up her hand. A smile spread slowly on her lips. "You really want to win?"

He glanced at MJ before nodding vigorously. 

"Then I need to go shopping, and I'm taking her with me. I also need to make a phone call. This will require a little backup."

Slow realization dawned, and Peter grinned. "Yes!" 

Celine laughed and motioned him closer. "I have an idea, and I need you to set our room up like this." Chi wicked out to create a miniature version of what she had in mind.

"I can do that."

"Good. I'll take care of the costumes. You get back to work."

He fist pumped and ran out of the room. Celine turned to MJ. "Come along, MJ. This is going to be fun." 

More fun than either teen yet realized.

***

“I can’t believe you talked us into this,” Steve muttered.

"Considering what she's wearing?" Bucky smirked, his fingertip sliding over the curve of Celine's cleavage. “I wasn’t about to let you come back without me.”

She chuckled softly and stroked his cheek. “Mm, Bucky. It could be so much worse.”

Celine had fought to keep the costume tame as she had no desire to give the teenagers heart attacks. MJ had been great fun to shop with, helping her pick out the leather and red lace corset that caused the swell of cleavage Bucky and Steve couldn’t stop admiring. She’d paired it with sheer black stockings patterned with fancy lace, tiny leather shorts, and thigh-high boots. But her favourite piece was the gothic coat she’d stumbled across rather by accident. It had silver frog closures, flared lace cuffs, and a high collar she'd stiffened to stand out around her face. Cut high in the front; the back was a long flowing cape that would flow out behind her when she moved and allowed her legs to remain unencumbered.

Smoky eyes were all she needed to complete the look, for Celine planned to let Styx out to have a little fun. She was going to scare the pants off people tonight and maybe have a little feast while doing it. 

Her boys always looked tasty in their uniforms.

“Peter?” she called, letting Styx take over, curling her hair and lengthening her teeth. 

He bounced into the room where they’d set up a narrow space that would hide Steve and Bucky. “Yeah, Celine? Wow! You look great!”

She ruffled his hair and smirked at his costume. He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with faux blood spilling down his throat and staining the collar. “You too. Have you seen MJ?” Thanks to a little meddling, Celine was going to give the teens a tiny push in the right direction. 

Once they were away from the school, MJ had opened up about how she admired Peter and how he managed to juggle all he had going on. She didn’t come right out and say it, and as far as Celine knew Ned was the only one privy to Peter’s secret, but the way she spoke almost alluded to MJ suspecting Peter was Spider-man. 

Celine liked the girl and wanted Peter to be happy, and so, she meddled. 

“Not yet. Why?”

She only smiled. “You’ll see. Are the others dressed?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Yup! They look great. Kind of Underworld meets Steampunk, but I like it.”

“Excellent.” She turned to Steve and Bucky and smiled at Steve who still looked uncertain. “Come on, Stevie,” she purred, sidling closer and stroking her hands down his chest. “It will be fun, and I’ll make it worth your while later.”

“You better,” he mumbled, but he was fighting a smirk. 

“Celine?” MJ called from behind the curtain. 

“You two wait here until it’s time.” She patted Bucky’s chest and slipped out past Peter only to smile at MJ. “Well, don’t you look the part.”

MJ rubbed a hand over her stomach. “Are you sure? I feel-”

“Oh, my God…” Peter whispered when he came around the curtain. “MJ, you look…” He swallowed thickly and squeaked, “Good!”

Celine snickered and walked to the girl. Again she’d been careful with MJ’s costume, outfitting her in black leather that hinted at sexy without being skimpy, then worked big curls into her hair, pinning a few off her face. Smoky eyes and blood-red lips dripping at the corner completed her vampiric look. “Doesn’t she make a glorious vampire?” Celine asked, curling her arm around MJ’s waist and smirking a Peter. 

“Ye-yeah!” He nodded vigorously. 

“She’s going to bite your neck.”

“What!” both teens yelped. 

Celine giggled. “Well, we need to set the stage.” She caught Ned beaming at her from the space beside her ‘throne’ where he would be running the lighting. He looked debonair in his tails and tophat. 

“Are you ready or what!”

Celine rolled her eyes at the impatient Flash screaming in the hall. “Pete, this was your plan. I mean, we can always have MJ bite Abe.”

“Hey, baby. I’m down!” Abe grinned, also dressed in leather and lace. 

“No!” Peter barked and blushed. “I-it’s fine. I’m cool.”

Celine cupped his chin. “Remember. This is fun, but it is meant to be scary, so act the part of her victim. You, my boy, are _ meat _.”

Peter blanched. “O-okay!”

She patted his cheek. “Good boy. Places everyone.”

Peter cast a short glance at MJ, who - Celine noted - also had pink cheeks and dropped to the floor a few feet from the opening of the winding path the people would take to come to their final vignette. 

“And remember,” Celine purred. “Nothing you see is real, and nothing will hurt you.”

“Should we be worried?” asked Roger Harrington, outfitted like his students, sitting at Ned's feet and beside her throne. 

Celine flashed him a fangy smile. “Of course not. But they should be.” She raised her hands and let her chi flow outward, tilted her head back and laughed in bone-chilling mockery. 

***

Flash tugged open the door to the dark hallway lit - somehow - by little floating balls. He frowned at them. How the hell had Parker done that? 

The other two groups were being given a chance to see what the rest had come up with before they opened to the public, and Parker’s group had volunteered to be last as the people would go through their ‘house’ last.

So far, Flash's house had outdone themselves. The blood. The gore. People were going to lose their minds! There was no way anyone had topped their scare factor.

“Ooh, floaty lights,” he scoffed once through the door. “So scary.” 

“I don’t know, Flash,” Betty murmured. “It’s… strange.”

“Get in you big chicken,” Jason huffed, shoving her inside and running her into Flash who stumbled forward. 

“Okay, okay, you guys. Settle down,” Coach Wilson grumbled, having been roped into assisting, though Flash suspected he was enjoying himself. “Let’s see what else Parker’s got up his sleeve. 

Kenneth, Josh, and Yasmin followed him in, then the door slammed shut and made the girls scream. 

“Huh. Nice trick. Lame, but well-timed.” He wondered if there were cameras in here so they could set that off without hitting anyone. 

The glowing orb above his head fluttered and went out. The one in the middle of the hall began to sputter, and Flash hurried forward. Surrounded in black fabric, he didn’t really want to be stuck in the dark with no directions.

He made it to the end and turned to find another hallway in what was apparently an ‘S’ curve. “Not impressed so far, Parker!” he called out. 

A sultry, yet somehow frightening laugh echoed through the hallway, and glowing white mist appeared to roll toward him. 

“I’m so creeped out, and we’re barely in the door,” Betty whimpered. 

“Oh, please. It’s just fog.” Flash marched forward, intent on kicking the mist, only to stop when the fog rolled back on itself. 

“Oh, my God!” Yasmin shrieked. “Something touched me!”

“Get moving, Flash,” Coach urged, a little concern in his voice. 

Flash blinked at the fog and walked cautiously forward as the floating orbs continued to wink out of existence. 

_ Flash… _

“Who said that?” Jason whispered. 

_ Flash… come… meet your doom. _

“Omg, you’re gonna die,” Betty whispered, clutching his arm. 

Something flew toward him out of the wall. White. Glowing. It passed through his body and felt cold. 

“Ghost!” Kenneth yelped and bolted past him. 

As a herd, they stampeded forward, following the winding path, until they stumbled out into a pitch-black room where a narrow spotlight shone down on two bodies. The dark head lifted, revealing MJ, her mouth bloody from the wound on Peter’s neck. 

His head rolled to the side and hand lifted weakly. “Help… me.”

MJ snarled and dragged him out of the light that then went out, plunging them back into darkness. 

“Who disturbs my court?”

His knees quaked. Never before had he heard something so sensual and so terrifying. He looked in the direction of the words and found two glowing golden eyes staring back. 

Slowly, low spotlights lit up the throne perched on a platform covered in black fabric in the far corner of the room, revealing the speaker. 

“Who… who…?” Josh asked. 

Black hair curled over her shoulders, and smoky makeup made her eyes appear enormous. Blood red lips pulled back and revealed sharp white fangs. 

“Darling… you’ve stumbled into the court of the Vampire Queen.” She flowed from the throne and down into the room beneath the flash of the overhead spotlight so fast they all jerked back. “Have you come to join us?” She held out her hand, unfolding long, talon tipped fingers from inside a lace cuff.

The others bared sharp fangs and bloody teeth, hissing at them from where they lounged or stood beside her chair. Even Mr. Harringinton appeared a terrifying rendition of a vampire with his bloody mouth. 

“You, Flash?” she purred and reached out. Wisps of something gold flowed from her fingers, wrapped around him, and tugged him step by step closer. She cupped his chin and turned his face back and forth. 

He didn’t know whether to be turned on or terrified. 

“Will you join more court? It would be so effortless.” Her hand clenched in his hair and dragged his head back and to the side. “Just… one… bite.” She snapped her teeth near his neck. 

“Let the boy go.” 

She hissed and thrust Flash away. “You!”

Captain America walked out of the dark, shield on his arm. “I won’t let you hurt any more people.”

She laughed and licked her fangs. “And who will stop me? _ YOU _?”

He lunged for her, but she was faster, and instead of saving them, Captain America was locked in her unbreakable hold, her arm around his neck. His shield clanged to the floor. 

“So strong, but so fragile,” she purred, wrenching his head to the side. “You will make an excellent addition to my court. Perhaps I’ll make you my consort.” Her hand splayed over his heart; her tongue stroked the length of the Captain’s neck, then she opened her mouth, bared her fangs and drove them into his throat. 

A fountain of red spurted up and began to trickle down his throat into his suit. Everyone gasped when he sagged against her. 

She lifted her mouth and smiled, red dripping down her chin, and dragged him back to her throne where she sat, and he fell on his knees before her. “Feast, my children. Let none escape you.” She sank her mouth back on the Captain’s throat. 

Captain Rogers lifted a shaking hand and whispered, “...run.”

Light burst in from the door that opened at the other side of the room. Flash bolted into the hallway and straight out into the gym. 

“She killed him! She killed Captain America!” he screamed, pointing back the way he’d come, only to find Parker standing in the open doorway laughing his ass off. 

***

Celine chuckled and sucked on Steve’s pulse for the pleasure of making it beat hard and let the red chi she was working absorb back into his body and hers. “See,” she whispered when she lifted her mouth to his ear. “Fun.”

He looked up at her, blue eyes electric in the low lights. “I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

His voice was barely a whisper, but she didn’t need words to know that and dipped her head to sip lightly from his parted lips at the pretty pinks and oranges in his aura. “You taste delicious.”

“Me next,” Bucky smirked, leaning against the wall in his hidden position. 

“Absolutely,” Celine purred. 

“Oh, man,” Ned giggled. “That was the craziest, most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. I think Flash wet himself.”

“I must admit, this isn’t what I expected when Peter said he had someone who could help,” Roger Harrington said, a blush on his face at odds with his vampiric makeup. “But I’m glad you agreed to assist.”

“What are friends for?” Celine smiled. “This is going to be ridiculously fun.”

Peter darted in the out door and up the stairs to throw his arms around her. “Thank you! That was amazing!”

She laughed and hugged back. “Of course, Peter.” Celine pulled back, took a hard look at him, then tugged him down to whisper in his ear. “You have fake blood on your mouth. Best wipe it off and get MJ to fix hers before the next group.”

His face burned, but his eyes sparkled. “Thanks for that, too.”

She patted his cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

He bounced away like the puppy he was to find MJ, and Celine stood with Steve to join Bucky who tugged her close and kissed her neck. “You’re playing the wrong part, Barnes.”

“Nope,” he chuckled. “I’m playing my part. You looked amazing, darlin’. And it looks like you’re meddling worked. Maybe now Parker will stop mooning over you.”

“Jealous of a teenager, Buck?” she teased. 

“Nope. Cause you’re all ours, Styx.” He kissed her hard, then smirked at her. “But I’m gonna put up more of a fight than the punk did.”

“Hey!” Steve huffed, returning his shield to his arm. 

“You did just fine, Steve. Bucky’s only teasing. Besides, that little bit at the end was just the right touch. We scared the pants off Flash,” she giggled ruthlessly. 

“New group coming!” Ned warned. 

“Places, boys,” Celine smirked and sauntered back to her throne as Peter and MJ, blushing and sending shy glances at each other having shared a sweet first kiss in the dark, returned to their starting points. 

She settled in her seat and crossed her legs, sending a sultry smile at Bucky and Steve before the lights went out and she focused on the infrared camera Ned showed her of the door and following passageways. Celine lit the orbs as before with nothing but a raised hand and trickle of chi. 

For once, she didn’t mind the moniker of Vampire. 

After all, she nodded to Ned, who slammed the door behind the group of parents and students and let her laughter wick through the walls.

It was good to be Queen.

-_The End-_


	9. Haunted House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> averyrogers83 said:  
Steve, Bucky, and reader go to a haunted house for the first time.  
feelmyroarrrr said:  
Congratulations!! How about avengers running a haunted house for charity ? And steve not being super into it til one of the agents helping catches his eye?
> 
> Warnings: Language

* * *

"Why did you drag me to this?" Steve muttered. He hated haunted houses. The jump scares and screaming, flashing lights and loud noises more often than not set off his anxiety. After the wars, trauma, fighting he'd done, _ this _ was not his idea of fun. 

Then, Bucky's girl looked at him, and he sighed. She was like family, the sister he'd never had, and he loved her enough to put himself through this because Tony had asked her to run the house for charity.

"You don't have to go inside, Steve. I wasn't going to ask you to lead groups through or anything. But a big strong Avenger waiting for the people as they came out would assure a lot of the kids." Then she smiled that sweet smile, the one Bucky always caved beneath. "Just be prepared. You may get hugged a lot."

"I already get hugged a lot," he muttered, flinching when someone screamed.

"It's for a good cause, pal." Bucky punched him in the arm. 

"I know, I know." The money made would go to charities all around the city. He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright. Point me where you want me."

She squealed and kissed his cheek. "Great! Y/N is around back. She'll get you settled."

Steve froze as Bucky smirked before flouncing off with his girl. Unlike him, Bucky was excited to be involved in the haunted house for the first time and was in full makeup as a zombie - disgusting - while Steve - for some unknown reason - was dressed as Han Solo. 

He liked the movies, but his costume wasn't what kept him hesitant at the front of the rickety-looking house Tony had built for the occasion. It was the thought of spending the night with Y/N, an Agent he had a little crush on that made him nervous.

A crush Bucky knew about and ribbed him over often enough for not doing anything about. 

Steve headed for the exit, rounding the prominent structure, and had his mouth go dry when he found Y/N standing beneath a heat lamp. Now the costume made sense. The meddlesome twosome had coordinated this, he just knew it, for Y/N as Leia waited for him in a rendition of the princesses' costume. Thank god it wasn't the gold bikini, or he may have hunted down his zombie best friend and killed him. As it was, her white dress had a slit up the thigh that let one see knee-high boots and more flesh than was likely proper. And she had the buns.

A stupid thing to lust over, but Steve liked a woman with lots of hair. Hair he could get a good handful of when he kissed her, touched her, sucked on her neck. 

He cleared his throat and his lustful thoughts as he rounded the exit. "Princess."

She glanced at him, a slow smile crawling over her lips. "Scruffy-looking Nerfherder."

He barked a laugh, having not expected that and joined her beneath the warming lamp. "Well played."

She bumped her hip into his. "Han looks good on you, Cap."

"You just look good, Y/N." He blushed the minute the words left his mouth. 

"Sexy Leia suits me," she grinned. "You ready for this?"

"Sure?" He wasn't sure what she meant.

"You're about to be inundated," she chuckled as fresh screams rose from inside. 

He frowned. "Me? What about you?"

"I'm here to make sure no one tears your clothes off like they tried with Barton last year."

"Crap. What did I get myself into?" he asked, shifting closer to her.

She turned into him, her hands warmer than expected when they landed on his chest. "Don't worry, Han. I'll take care of you."

He couldn't resist wrapping his arm around her waist, especially when her eyes brightened and the smile turned seductive. "Yeah? Where's my kiss for luck?"

"So bold, Captain," she chuckled.

He blushed again. "Sorry, I-" 

She yanked him down and kissed him, his brain-melting with the connection. When she pulled her mouth away, Steve chased her lips and yanked her up against him.

Then, screams near the exit broke them apart.

"I've candy apples at my place I think you should help me eat after this," Y/N murmured.

"Is candy apple a euphemism?" Steve asked, breathlessly.

She laughed and stroked her fingers down his cheek. "It certainly is!"

"Good." He smirked and nipped his teeth into her lip before moving to her ear. "Leave your hair up."

"Naughty," she snickered. "I like it."

They stepped away from each other as the first wave of people scurried out of the house.

***

From the second-floor window, Bucky smirked down at Steve and his girl. "You were right, baby."

"Told ya they just needed a push. She's bold enough to take what she wants; she just needed to know he was interested."

"Punk always needs a push," Bucky chuckled before turning to his zombie girl and dragging her into his chest. Her makeup set her mouth at an odd angle, so he squeezed her sweet ass instead of kissing her. "Let's go scare the shorts off people."

She giggled and nodded. "I love you."

He grinned down at her. "I know."

"Fucking corn balls," echoed from the vents.

"Barton! Go scare the guests," she barked, banging her hand on the metal.

"Gah! My ears! I'm going!"

Bucky tilted his head back and laughed. "I fucking love Halloween!"

_-The End-_


	10. Golden Heart Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitchy-stitches said:  
How about Golden Halloween using the Norse festivals of Áflablót or Dísablót? I am fucking soft for Heimdall as a Dad.  
Anonymous said:  
Congrats on the 7K followers! Could you do a combo of Heimdall smut w/ a side of Runa/Uncle Loki mischief for your spooky requests?
> 
> Warnings: all the smut, dad!Heimdall
> 
> Part of the Golden Heart series with Heimdall

* * *

You watched Heimdall fondly as he and your small Runa filled the basket with the last fruits you'd harvested from the apple trees as well as joints of smoked meat and sheaves of wheat. You had no idea where he'd found the grain, probably a nearby farmer who didn't mind sharing a few stalks for the Gods Winternights Festival. 

As Halloween was upon you, it likely hadn't seemed too odd to the farmer when the enormous man showed up on his doorstep asking for the grain.

"What for, Daddy?" Runa asked in her high, sweet voice. 

All of four-years-old, she retained that cherub quality you adored in her chubby cheeks and toddling legs while growing enough to enchant you with her inquisitive mind. 

"The basket is to honour our beloved dead while paying homage to the Norns, min skatt."

"Momma, do?"

She pointed at you, and you joined her, chuckling at her words. "Yes, baby. Momma, do." As the woman of the house, it was your duty to lead the ritual, to take the offering out to the field where bonfires flared brightly against the night and leave your offering with that of the others. 

Over the years, though you didn't think they believed as Heimdall, Thor, and Loki did, other Avengers and the people of the compound had come to embrace the Asgardian traditions. 

Feast days were often and plentiful and usually fell on or around the Earthly holidays you'd always loved. 

Winternights ran from the twenty-ninth of October through to November second, but the biggest celebration fell on Halloween.

Earlier, you'd dressed Runa up as a baby ladybug, and traversed the decorated halls of the compound, dutifully helping her collect candy along the way. Everyone cooed over your baby and expressed how much she looked like Heimdall - the doting papa following proudly along.

But the nights were for the grown-ups. 

Loki announced he'd babysit quite suddenly a few days ago, and after Thor got a little drunk and unleashed a spate of lust on the revellers, you figured out why Winternights was not for children.

The fertility God muttered something about the end of harvest being good for sewing new seed, and those who had partners found themselves yearning toward the shadows and woods around the field. 

Not even Heimdall had been able to resist, not that he wanted to, and pinned you against a tree where he had you moaning and weeping for what only he could give you.

The second night, Thor apologized for his antics, and assure everyone who'd taken part that no one who didn't wish to would find themselves "planted."

You'd tried to hold back a laugh and wound up snorting instead when more than one person in the crowd looked relieved. 

Of course, that had started you thinking. Runa was already four. It was past time you considered adding a brother or sister to the mix. So tonight, you donned the white gown Heimdall had made especially for you, and when Heimdall was occupied, you quietly asked Loki if he'd mind keeping Runa overnight.

The devil himself had been in the trickster's grin, but as he was perfectly content to play Uncle Loki, you knew he'd be ecstatic to have another child to entertain and adore.

He'd given you a wink and wandered off with your daughter, still in her ladybug costume. You sincerely doubted you'd get her out of it before Christmas. 

"What are you up to, little one?" Heimdall murmured, strong hands gliding over your hips and up to cup breasts that had never reduced in size after Runa's birth. 

"What makes you think I'm up to anything?" you smiled, arching into the brush of his thumbs over the soft wool of your dress.

"You whisper with the God of Mischief who leaves here appearing the well-fed cat. Am I to be the canary?"

"No." You turned in his arms to reach up and cup the face you loved. "You will likely be the cat, and I the canary before the night ends."

He arched a brow but didn't ask, only picked up the basket and guided you from the room. "Just remember, my precious little one, the consequences of playing tricks with the punk god."

You burst out laughing, that sentence showing Bucky's influence. "I do, Heimdall. I do."

"Hm." Outside, the night was cool and dark, but the fires burned hot and bright, sending shadows dancing and writhing over the field and trees. Drummers played, musicians from Asgard, brought here for the few nights of the festival. You didn't know what it was about the music, but it all seemed much more sensual than any of Earth. 

Before you reached the table set up as a makeshift altar, Heimdall dragged you into his side and kissed you hard, releasing you only so you could breathe. A tiny whimper left your lips. 

He chuckled as he always did and handed you the basket. "Go, wife. See our house and home blessed as we are blessed."

You felt blessed and set the basket with the others, murmuring words of thanks to the Norns and remembering those who'd gone on, returning to the stars, asking them to watch over your family, and yes, you meant the extended one.

When you finished, Thor was standing there, smiling graciously down upon you. "Your offering is accepted, my lady."

"Thor? Can I ask a favour?" you whispered, knowing he would hear you while the noise of the celebration would drown you out to Heimdall.

"Of course, Lady Y/N. Anything."

He bent closer, and you whispered your request in his ear, blushing as you did so. 

He barked a wicked laugh. "Absolutely! Wish granted."

Fingers dance over your abdomen, out of sight of Heimdall's narrowed vision, and something warm settled there. 

"Go. Have a good night, my friend," Thor chuckled, shooing you away. 

You turned and almost immediately found yourself beneath Heimdall’s arm. “What are you planning, little one?”

“Concerned, my god Heimdall?” you teased, sliding away and deeper into the party where people danced in wild debauchery. 

Between the bonfires, you turned and swayed, reaching toward the man who was your husband and curling your fingers, beckoning him to you. Heimdall was before you in an instant, his hands tight on your hips. You skimmed your fingers down the open front of his tunic and tugged at it. “Dance with me.”

He did, without hesitation, without restraint. The filthy nature of the movements went unnoticed by the other people around you, each already lost to the music and the sensual nature of the Fertility God weaving magic through the night. 

Heimdall’s breath came fast and hard when his lips feel upon your neck. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

You ground against the thick, hard rod throbbing in his pants, and moaned softly, for his ears alone. “Seducing you.”

“You do that by breathing. What are you up to?”

You smiled and kissed him, licking over his lip until they parted and allowed you to sink into his mouth. A quiet growl rumbled in his chest before your back connected with the bark of a tree. You gasped, not even realizing he’d moved you from the fire and the dancers to the deep shadows away from the party. 

“You are doing something. Loki. Thor. My blood burns and pulses for you, Y/N. I have not ached for you like this since the day of Runa’s making.” His eyes were limpid pools of gold lust, his mouth swollen and kiss bitten. He panted, hands sliding over you with serious intent while he held you pinned to the tree with a thigh. 

You curled your arms around his neck, hands buried in dreadlocks you still couldn’t get enough of, brought your mouth to his and whispered, “Heimdall. I want another baby.” Your skirt rucked up so fast you swore it tore, but he stopped and groaned deeply when he found you weren’t wearing underwear.

“Is this the mischief you’ve been planning, my little one? The prince keeps our daughter for the night, so I may soak you swiftly and thoroughly in seed and give you another child? The king blesses your womb so our child will plant easily in your fertile garden?”

“Oh, god,” you moaned. They should be corny, but his words were incredibly seductive, and you nodded, unable to look away as lust shifted into love and so much adoration. 

“Another child. I have been waiting for you to ask,” he purred, his hand falling away to tug at the ties of his pants. 

You whimpered when his thick, hard cock landed on your thigh. “Heim- Heimdall, I meant for you to take us home before-” You moaned as he lifted you, spread your legs, and drove in slowly, causing you to see stars and gasp for breath. 

“Oh, we will go home, my love, but the sooner one consummates after my king’s blessing the better.” 

He placed slow kisses on your lips, sucking the lower one as he thrust with mind-numbing leisure into your aching body. Everything burned and throbbed. Pleasure hummed in every cell. 

“You’re so exquisite,” he whispered, pulling your bodice down to lavish attention on your breasts. “I cannot wait to watch you grow thick and glow with our child again. I would plant a babe in your belly every other year if you let me.”

You were done, coming apart with a low moan, body clenching around him. The pleasure rippled in waves, constant ecstasy that had tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. When he swelled impossibly bigger and burst to leave hot seed behind, you let your head fall back against the tree and wallowed in the bliss. The warmth in your womb made you smile because you knew a son or daughter would come of this night. 

He pulled slowly away, allowing you to lower to your shaky legs and straighten your dress as he tucked himself away. Then he swept you up in his arms and started through the trees toward the compound. “Come, love. This night is only beginning.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around him before lowering your lips to his throat. He groaned and quickened his pace into ground eating strides. 

“You keep that up, I’ll need to put out a memo about noise-cancelling headphones,” he warned, making you laugh. 

Winternights was quickly becoming your favourite Asgardian holiday.

-_The End-_


	11. Once A Witch Samhain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thefanficfaerie said:  
Steve and Nessa!!! I got to go to Salem this week. So could we revisit Steve and Nessa and have them celebrating Samhain. I had another idea of maybe Avalon showing her powers for the first time but not sure how that would work with Halloween.
> 
> Warnings: none
> 
> Part of the Once A Witch series with Steve Rogers

* * *

Eden was awash in fairy lights when Steve carried Avalon inside. His little witch was just about two, and though they hadn’t planned on having her join them for Samhain, she was not going to bed like the good girl she was after Aunty Natasha had snuck her a sucker. Instead, she was up, still dressed in her sparkly black tutu - a modern-day princess witch Wanda insisted - while Steve wore something similar to what he’d worn all those nights ago when he’d met Nessa for the first time on the hills of the summer solstice. 

It was as ‘costume’ as he got anymore what with wearing what amounted to a costume nearly every day of his life. Still, it was outside the norm of jeans and t-shirts, so it qualified. 

A few floors below, people in an assortment of costumes partied like there was no tomorrow, but up here where the garden was dark and quiet with only the tiny fairy lights to guide one along the paths, few people walked. 

Loki and Thor wandered the paths with a pitcher of wine and golden goblets. Tonight they would sit in one of Eden’s quiet corners and toast their mother. The veil was thin between the living world and the dead tonight. Though they didn’t truly believe Frigga would visit, traditions were just that. 

While they wouldn’t join Nessa in her circle, they were close enough to watch the Samhain fire burn. 

As he passed them, each raised a golden cup in a toast, and Steve nodded in return. He’d grown closer to the Asgardians over the years since he remembered his past. Magic was magic; it didn’t matter what realm it was practiced in, though Nessa was the true practitioner. Steve was more a conduit for her to draw magic through. He was much more instinctual while she followed the rituals. 

“Mum?”

Steve smiled down at Avalon. “Yup, we’re gonna go see mama.”

“Mum!” Avalon smiled and clapped her hands. 

He chuckled and smoothed down her flyaway hair. It was blonde like his, but her silver eyes were a throwback to Nessa’s father. He remembered the giant of a man fondly, only a little sad he wouldn’t get to meet his granddaughter. 

Steve turned the corner where his woman, dressed as always in white but now crowned in wheat, flowers, and small antlers, stood before the bonfire with her arms raised. 

“Mum!” Avalon cried. 

Nessa turned, a smile breaking on her lips. “My little witchling, what are you doing out of bed?” 

Steve chuckled and entered the circle with Nessa’s murmured greeting. Avalon was already reaching for her, and Nessa was quick to swing her up and cuddle her close. “Aunty Nat gave her candy.”

“She did, did she?” Nessa gasped, nose to nose with their daughter. “Well, Aunty Natasha gets to do nap time tomorrow. Yes, she does.”

“How’s it going?” he asked, knowing well the high, happy tone did not offset the threat in the least. Natasha was in for it the next day when Avalon had a cranky afternoon. Not that Nat would care. She loved being on Avalon duty. 

“No gnomes, no fairies, no brownies,” Nessa chuckled. 

“Don’t jinx us. Just ‘cause we’ve never seen them doesn’t mean they can’t show up. I mean, Thor fought dark elves.”

“Very true.” She shifted closer and turned her face up to his. 

Steve was all too happy to bend down and kiss her softly. “Happy Samhain.”

“Awee-on, kiss!” 

She puckered her little lips and made Steve chuckle before kissing his daughter. “Avalon gets a kiss too.” Then, he held up the basket he’d been carrying. “Brought dinner.”

“Good. I’m starving!” Nessa chuckled. 

Steve grinned and went to lay out a blanket beneath the limbs of the young Ash tree, pulling the cold chicken and potato salad from within, a bottle of Asgardian wine, and a sippy cup of apple juice. A small Tupperware with cheerios and raisins landed on the blanket, and he leaned back against the trunk to watch his girls. 

Nessa weaved a little spell that had the sparks from the bonfire rising to dance in swirls and circles while Avalon bounced and giggled, her eyes big and full of wonder. 

When his wife’s eyes lifted and locked with his, Steve felt the same tug and swell of love in his heart he had from the first day they met. “Come eat, _ mo leannan _.”

The two walked toward him, then Nessa sank down at his side, placing Avalon between them. But it was clear food wasn’t on her mind when she leaned toward him and kissed him, soft, slow, and so sweet. 

“Juice. Juice. Juice.” Avalon clapped her hands and had them pulling apart. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “Now I’m looking forward to nap time tomorrow,” Steve snickered, echoed by Nessa. “Alright, baby. I’ll get your juice.”

“Me!” Avalon giggled and opened her hands. The sippy cup flew across the blanket and into her palms. 

“Oh!” Nessa gasped. “Well, guess we know who she takes after.”

Steve just stared. “Guess we need to re-baby proof the apartment. I never considered magic at this age.”

“She’s an overachiever, just like her daddy,” Nessa teased.

He rolled his eyes but smoothed down Avalon’s hair. “Yeah? Maybe we should think about trying for a sibling just like her mama.”

Nessa smiled. “Whenever your ready, Aneirin.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, now doubly excited for nap time tomorrow when Avalon would be occupied with Natasha.

-_The End-_


	12. A Missed Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a prequel to Balance on the Head of a Pin. I can’t write a foray from the current story without giving away things for the future, so we’re going to play in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
I wonder what costumes Lauren and Loki would wear and how much they might compete to tease the other/turn them on. I feel like that would be hilarious. Happy 7K! -🌹  
dsakita said:  
Congrats on 7k! If anyone deserves it, it’s you!! For your Halloween Drabble. Would you be open to doing one with Lauren taking Loki to a corn maze in (assuming it’s his first time) and getting apple donuts and hot apple cider? Maybe something late evening and into the night?

* * *

With her teeth in her lip, Lauren twisted her hands together nervously and shot a glance at the group. “I… I know y’all aren't really into all this, but I came with Bucky last year, and James and I had so much fun, I just thought it would be nice to share the experience with everyone,” she finished in a rush before sinking her teeth back into her lip. 

The entirety of the Avengers stood before her. Steve and Bucky, Natasha and Sam, Pepper with Tony and Peter, Clint with his family, Vision and Wanda, and Thor had dragged Loki along. 

She cast a glance toward the last, dressed in black with a long coat. He looked out of place compared to the rest of them in casual clothing and what passed for disguises - hats and sunglasses - not that Tony was trying very hard. 

Known as The Fall Harvest Fair, the gathering had something for everyone. Orchards, fields, rides, games, crafts, and a host of other fall and Halloween related entertainment.

“It’s great, dollface,” Bucky grinned. “Apple picking, corn maze, pumpkin chucking, carnival rides-”

“I’m not getting on the Cyclone,” Steve blurted.

Lauren giggled. “No one has to do anythin’ they don’t wanna.”

“Barton!” Nat smirked. “Let’s go win the kids some prizes.”

“They don’t need any more stuffed animals, Natasha,” Laura whined over the children’s cries of glee.

“Auntie’s are supposed to spoil their nieces and nephews,” she quipped, trotting off with the kids toward the midway. 

“Be back by four, so we have time to get ready for the party!” Lauren called after them. 

“Mm, Vision and I are for the food trucks,” Wanda smiled and waved. 

“C’mon, punk, featherhead. Let’s see if we can make Steve yack!” Bucky laughed, throwing Steve into a headlock.

Sam rolled his eyes but followed the pair, shooting Lauren a wink as he went by. “Stay out of trouble, missy.”

Lauren blushed and waved him off. “Y’all are the ones gonna be in trouble.”

“Probably,” he called, jogging away. 

“Well, Miss Annandale,” Tony chuckled. “This is quite a surprise.”

“I just wanted to do somethin’ nice. Y’all have been so busy lately. It will be good to have some downtime,” she murmured, her blush growing even darker. 

“Mr. Stark! Look!” Peter pointed excitedly toward a sign that read Junior Science Fair this way.

“I contacted the organizers. Y’all are listed as guest judges if you want to be. Well, Tony is. You’re a little young yet, Peter.” And it wasn’t like she could - or would - announce that he was Spider-man.

“It’s okay, Lauren. Can we go?”

“Pep?” Tony asked, looking to Pepper. 

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Have fun. I saw a craft sale on the way in.”

“Don’t buy any weird macrame!” Tony warned, sauntering after the excited Peter.

Lauren smiled shyly at Thor and Loki. “What about y’all? Anythin’ catch your fancy?” She’d known Thor a few years now, but Loki had only been with them a few months. 

None of the others trusted him to be left alone yet, and she figured he was here against his will. 

“What would you like to do, Lady Lauren?” Thor asked. “We will join you.”

“Oh! Oh, well.” She hadn’t planned on doing much of anything. There were still so many things to oversee for the party tonight at eight, she’d planned on getting back on Tony’s ridiculously comfortable bus and make phone calls.

“You wouldn’t want to leave two who know nothing of these human traditions to wander on their own, would you?”

She blinked at Loki. She was never sure if he was saying something flippant or teasing her or was just uncomfortable fitting in. “Well, I always like a good corn maze.”

“And what is a corn maze?” asked Thor.

“I would assume, brother, it is a maze through the corn stalks,” Loki smirked. 

At first, that smile had made Lauren uncomfortable. It was too smug, too rude, but slowly, she was beginning to understand Loki and his ways. When they said he was the God of Mischief, they weren’t lying. He was a trickster, a joker, and pranks came naturally to him. 

She wondered if, at one time, his smile had been quick and genuine and just what had happened to him in his life to make it quite so guarded. What had happened to send him spiralling down the path to attacking the Earth?

“Lady Lauren?” 

Thor knocked her from her contemplation and left her red face with embarrassment. “Right! Sure. I’ll show you.” What she wouldn’t give to have the ground open up and swallow her. Instead, she turned sharply around and headed toward the far side of the fairgrounds, but as Thor and Loki both had long legs, they quickly caught up.

“Explain this concept of Halloween to me again, Lady Lauren,” Thor asked. 

“I don’t know how it all started, but it’s somethin’ to do with October thirty-first bein' when the veil between the livin’ world and the dead is thinner, so those who’ve passed on can return to visit those who are left behind. I think originally people left food out for their loved ones as a way of welcomin’ them and also honourin’ them, but I can’t remember. Today though, it's more about the kids and the candy and all things spooky.”

“And you enjoy this celebration?” Loki asked. 

“Of course,” she smiled up at him. “It’s fun bein’ someone you’re not. Takin’ a night and spendin’ it in a world of makebelieve.” She shrugged. “What’s not to like?”

“Hm. Sounds questionable to me.”

“You’ve just got to get into it, Loki. Loosen up. Have fun. I’d think as the God of Mischief you’d enjoy the idea of a night full of it.” She poked him in the arm.

“Oh?” He peered down at her with an indiscernible look. “And what mischief do you get up to on Halloween?”

Where the boldness came from, she’d never know, but she smirked up at him in imitation of his smile. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I guess I will,” he nodded.

Lauren blushed and looked for Thor only to find him gone. “What happened to your brother?”

Loki shrugged. “He is like Odin’s ravens. Easily distracted by something shiny. Come.” He extended his elbow to her. “Explain the point of a _ corn maze _ whilst we view it.”

She placed her hand at his elbow and wondered what he’d do if she likened him to a southern gentleman.

*** 

Loki lurked in the shadows, staying away from the rest of the partygoers, content to watch for the time being and contemplate his time with the sweet woman who had yet to make an appearance. Quiet and shy, Lauren had shown another side of herself today when she'd led him around the fair. 

There was a little sass behind all that politeness. She didn't show it often, but it was there. 

Unfortunately, Rogers and Wilson had noticed they were alone together and encouraged her away. Thor's plot to give him a chance to get to know the team's golden darling was dashed and Loki returned to the bus to read until it was time to leave. 

“Why are you over here lurking?” Thor asked, slipping up beside him. 

Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s not lurking.”

“Hiding, whatever.” Thor waved a hand. 

Loki narrowed his eyes at his costume. “What in all the realms are you wearing?”

“I am a man in black,” he said, straightening his tie and smoothing down his suit coat. 

“You look like a witch,” Loki huffed. 

“You look like a witch all the time in that black on black. I am an agent of a secret organization that protects and coordinates aliens who immigrate to Midgard. I thought it was fitting.” He dropped the black sunglasses - likely Mjolnir - down on his nose.

“You look ridiculous.”

“You look ridiculous,” Thor huffed. “That isn’t even a costume, just your regular armour. Why did you even come?"

"You know why," Loki huffed. "She asked if I would be here, and I couldn't say no."

"You should ask her to dance."

"She hasn't even arrived yet."

Thor frowned. "She came in ten minutes ago. How have you missed her?" He pointed across the dance floor, and Loki's breath caught. 

The big ball gown was blue and clung to her shoulders. Her blonde hair curled at the nape of her neck and sparkled with glitter beneath the lights. Lauren was lovely in her guise, and Loki recognized her as Cinderella. 

"She's lovely," Thor murmured.

"She's a rare beauty," Loki sighed.

"You should go. Ask her to dance. A prince to a princess," Thor chuckled, nudging him with an elbow.

Loki moved further back into the shadows. "I cannot. I… I am not… worthy. They'll be angry I tried and likely harp at her for accepting. I won't make her uncomfortable by forcing her to dance. You know she won't say no."

"Loki," Thor sighed, his disappointment evident. "You can be happy, brother."

"Can I? After what I've done?" He shook his head, slipped behind Thor, and started for the doors. 

"Loki!" Thor huffed, but he ignored him and passed through the doors without further intervention.

He'd almost made the elevator when the rustle of cloth and huffed of breath made him turn to find Lauren rushing toward him. 

"Loki? Are you leavin' already?" She stumbled and in true Cinderella fashion lost a shoe. "Nuts! These darn things are a nuisance!"

He couldn't help but chuckle and was helpless but to move toward her when she fought with the full skirt. "You are keeping with tradition, at least."

She blushed so beautifully, long lashes sweeping her cheeks. "I suppose it is fittin'."

He flicked his fingers and brought the shoe to his hand. The strappy silver heel was quite delicate. "Ah, I see what the problem is."

“You do?” she blinked. 

“They’re not made strictly for you.” He waved a hand and changed the silver sandal into a much more sturdy silver shoe with a strap now running over the top of her foot.

“Oh! They couldn’t be more perfect if they were glass! Thank you, Loki!” She smiled her bright, full smile at him, and Loki found one curling his lips in response. 

“Lady Lauren,” he began, taking a step closer. “I was wondering-”

“Hey, Lauren?” Stark barked from down the hall. 

She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll be right there!” Then she took a step closer to him. “What were you gonna say, Loki?”

Stark appeared in the doorway and glowered at him. Loki sighed. “Do you have the intel for the mission on Thursday? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Oh.” Her smile lost a bit of its brightness. “Sure. I can send it to you later.”

“Thank you. Have a good night.” He walked away without another word, knowing he’d missed his chance. 

-_The End-_


End file.
